Work Text:
An explosion crackled through the room as Mei fastened a final screw in place on her baby. On the opposite side of the room, Power Loader let out an aggrieved sigh over the smoke billowing from Mei’s workbench. But Mei paid her homeroom teacher no mind as she swiped the soot out her eyes and fished out a roll of blue paper to sketch out a design for her new prototype.
While Mei pressed her lips together and traced the outline of the newest upgrade of her hoverboots, she snorted at how Power Loader always lamented her penchant for exothermic reactions. Wasn’t trial and error the main point of science though? Having perfectly concocted plans that blow up in your face and finding the resilience to press forward anyways.
Mei grinned from ear to ear as she sketched the pipes from the new hydraulics system for her hoverboots that would hopefully circumvent the overheating issue. It didn’t matter that this was the twelfth iteration of her invention. As her pupils sharpened and zeroed on the charred prototype Power Loader had doused with a fire extinguisher, Mei could see all the limitless potential shining between gears and screws.
While Mei peeked at the wrecked remains of enough hoverboots to be considered a hoverboots graveyard, she figured that the whole trial and error dealio fit in as into UA’s plus ultra motto as heroics.
And if nothing else Mei liked to think that getting all of the explosions out of the way now meant that her babies wouldn’t blow up anymore once she started selling them to clients.
A yawn escaped Mei’s throat, making her attack the page in front of herself with even more vigor. Stupid body with its dumb basic human needs. Her throat itched with thirst and Mei barely swallowed down a dry cough slowly crawling up her throat. She wasn’t that thirsty. Besides, she was finally in a good rhythm with cooking up ideas for a more lightweight alloy. What good reason was there to interrupt her process? Besides, she could always have a water break once she was finished. After all, a couple of extra hours without hydrating would hardly kill her.
Someone behind Momo cleared her throat, tugging Mei out of her whirlwind of thoughts. “Hatsume.”
Mei would’ve shooed most people away. But akin to any scientific process there could be exceptions to the rule. The soft voice pulled Mei away from her blueprints in a way that no else could. After all, considering how often Yaoyorozu had helped make extra bolts for Mei on short notice meant that Mei wanted to at least try to pay attention to what she had to say.
Pouting, Yaoyorozu let a cloth spring forth from her elbow and Mei was mesmerized by the bright flash of light across her skin. While Yaoyorozu wiped grease off a folding plastic and sat down, Mei found herself staring at Yaoyorozu like she was some sort of fascinating specimen. And for whatever reason Mei sensed her own chest pounding more intensely the longer that she stared at Yaoyorozu’s charcoal hair.
“Hatsume, I implore you to take a break. Your…” Yaoyorozu flushed over the next words. “Your babies will only benefit from you giving your mind a chance to rest.”
Mei gestured to her blueprint, hoping that the girl before her could sense the potential flowing from the papers in front of her. “No can do, Yaoyorozu. I’m on the verge of a breakthrough.”
“How about some caffeine to help with that breakthrough.”
Another yawn clawed its way up Mei’s throat and she found herself yawning. “Well, I guess I can’t say no to caffeine.”
A dainty smile flashed across Yaoyorozu’s face. As she made a beeline toward the exit – certainly on her way to retrieve some tea from her dorm – Mei inexplicably found herself staring at each elegant long stride Yaoyorozu made. “But I’ll still work on this until you get back.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” Yaoyorozu.
And Mei had never expected a laugh to sound that pretty. It reminded her of clockwork, clicking into place rhythmically. Mei had no idea how it was possible for a laugh to sound that lovely. Perhaps that was a research question to be investigated later.
A foaming cup of gray-blue tea was set on Mei’s desk after the better part of an hour. Gold eyes going wide, Mei inspected the ice cubes bobbing through the thin layer of sweet foam. She traced a finger along the gold paint on the rim of the tea cup. Mei never thought she’d see anything fancier than a to-go coffee cup on her desk cluttered in loose papers and soot stains. Though perhaps Mei shouldn’t have expected anything less than porcelain tea cups from the girl who drank Golden Tips Imperial on a regular basis.
“What sort of fancy tea is this?” Mei asked.
A blush creeping across her cheeks, Yaoyorozu clasped her hands together and beamed back at Mei. “Oh it’s a classic. This is a London Fog. It used a few bags of Earl Grey tea, frothed milk, some vanilla extract and some agave as a sweetener. I usually prefer drinking it hot but I figured you would find an iced version more refreshing.”
Curious about how something as simple as a cup of tea could make someone light up, Mei took a sip. A creamy yet light taste melted onto her tongue. The ice cubes soothed the beads of sweat that had built up on the nape of Mei’s neck after hours spent at her workbench.
The tea was definitely sweeter and a world away from the bitter coffee Mei usually drank. After all, adding milk and sweetener to her coffee wasn’t the most efficient use of Mei’s time when she could be tinkering meanwhile instead.
“This isn’t half bad!” Mei said.
“Ah, I’m delighted you like it. This brew has always been a favorite of mine since it reminds me of a foggy morning.”
Mei found her gaze drifting toward the bluish hue that had formed toward the top layer of the tea. Although Mei didn’t drink tea regularly her mother most certainly did – and even Mei knew that Earl Grey tea wasn’t typically blue. Adrenaline pumped through Mei’s veins over the thought of yet another research question to explore.
“Why is it blue? Did you make some sort of special baby for your tea?”
“Well, I suppose it's a rather novel invention but it wasn’t my own creation.”
Mei furrowed her brows. “You didn’t make it?”
Turning red, Yaoyorozu stared down at her own shoes. “Um, I did use my quirk to produce it since the tea shops in this city district were out of stock. So I figure I created it but didn’t invent it.”
Staring at her cup, Mei thought of how red lettuce adopted a similar hue as the tea before her depending on its acidity. Images of various advertisements that relied on that scientific property flashed before Mei’s mind’s eye.
“This reminds me of that color changing lipstick that was all the rage. It seemed like good business practice.”
“It is in fact a lot like color-changing lipstick. It is called butterfly tea and changes color based on the pH values of the tea.”
“Why butterfly tea? Don’t get me wrong, it definitely sounds like a marketable name. I just want to know why.”
“Ever the business woman, aren’t you?” Yaoyorozu stared at her elbow like she was thinking about how her body could take lipids and turn them into something new. And Mei couldn’t exactly blame Yaoyorozu for dwelling on her quirk – Mei would do the same in her shoes.
“I suppose it’s because the tea undergoes a metamorphosis of sorts,” Yaoyorozu said.
“I like that. It reminds me of my babies. Always changing with each new prototype.”
“Your babies are quite fascinating.” Evading direct eye contact with Mei, Yaoyorozu fished out a tea bag that had still been steeping and cast it into the rubbish bin. “You’ll need to show me the blueprints sometime. Maybe I can make replicas.”
“I oughta be careful reminding me that you can make practically everything.” Mei leaned in to whisper into Yaoyorozu’s ear. “Because I might just convince you to step away from heroics and join Hatsume Industries instead.”
“You say that as if it were a bad thing. I’d like to think we’d make a good team.”
Part of Mei wanted to say that she wasn’t made for group projects – that everyone tried to keep their distance from her barrage of explosions. Yet, Yaoyorozu remained firmly rooted at Mei’s desk whenever she visited the support labs. She never flinched from booming explosions and could always form a shield at will to ward off shrapnel.
And maybe there was a reason researchers always worked in teams. There was a reason that more often than not since the age of quirks began that usually teams of researchers won Nobel Prizes. Greatness was rarely accomplished in a vacuum. Glancing at her blueprints, Mei decided that it was probably for the best to never turn away Yaoyorozu and her soothing cups of tea.
Mei took one wistful gulp from the cup before handing the dainty pottery back to Yaoyorozu. “Well, thanks for the caffeine! I should be able to stay up extra-long today and keep working on my babies!”
Brushing dust off the green skirt that accentuated her long legs, Yaoyorozu stood up. “Don’t overdo it. Remember to take care.”
“Oh please, innovation never rests!” Mei tapped her chin as she mulled over the creamy texture of the London Fog. How the sweetness settled better on her tastebuds than bitterness did. “The tea was very good though. Maybe I’ll trade in espresso shots for tea more regularly.”
“Hmm, I’m glad that I might have won over yet another person to become a tea lover.”
Once Yaoyorozu left the room, Mei faced her blueprint again. With the brief tea break came a new perspective. All the glaring design flaws shone in Mei’s face. Like how there was too much of a risk of the pipes leaking water into her circuitry.
As Mei crumbled up her blueprint and tossed it into the trash can, she spotted a small soggy piece of paper hanging from the string of a teabag.
Decaf flashed on the label of the teabag Momo had discarded in the rubbish bin. Mei’s mouth fell agape with shock over how the contents of her tea were excluding a key ingredient. Still, Mei didn’t really feel betrayed. As much as she didn’t give a shit about self care, it was probably for the best that someone in her life cared about her well being.
And part of Mei couldn’t help but wonder whether Momo’s lips tasted like Earl Grey tea.