Archive of Our Own

Light flickered from the crystals on the chandelier as Momo trailed into the Great Hall. Running her fingers along the edge of the mahogany table, she settled onto the chair at the head of the table where her dad always sat. Wearing a plush bathroom over her shirt, Momo fished a card out of her pocket and stared out the tall glass windows off into the night sky where a couple of stars still flickered even with the light pollution.

She looked down at the newly minted provisional hero license she had gotten a couple of days ago and turned it between her fingers. Momo ran her finger over the name Creati printed on the front in bold letters. The Great Hall still smelled faintly of all the tea the mansion staff had brewed for the party the Yaoyorozu’s had hosted to commemorate her license. The second Aizawa announced that the class could visit their families over the weekend rather than staying at the dorms, Momo’s mother hadn’t hesitated to call her favorite macaron pastry chef and invite all her friends from the country club.

Momo could still remember her mother’s smile as she handed Momo a tin of Golden Tips Imperial tea. Her favorite. Yet before Momo could even brew a single, she already found herself steeping in her mother’s usual words that were probably intended to be reassuring.

Our little hero. We always knew you were destined for greatness with a quirk like yours.

Momo’s face still felt a bit sore from the strained smiles as she shook every guest’s hand at the party earlier that day. Because it still all felt like an act. Like she had stumbled her way through the licensing exam and somehow found herself with a piece of plastic between her fingertips. Letting out a yawn, Momo averted her gaze. Maybe after a good night’s sleep the reality would finally hit her. The reality that maybe she could actually become a hero. That could be more than a girl who had memorized hundreds of chemical compounds but would freeze and have her mind go blank the second it actually mattered.

The sound of shattering tore Momo out of her sea of thoughts. Sitting up straight, Momo rose up slowly and remarked how the shattering sounded far too similar to windowpanes crashing down. Cautiously, Momo treaded forward and rolled up her sleeves. In a quick flash of light a taser emerged from her forearm. It had been ages since someone had broken into the mansion and attempted to rob it but Momo refused to take any chances.

Clutching onto the taser, Momo prayed that none of the wiring would short circuit. Perhaps a long range weapon would have been the wiser choice. The barrel of a gun would have certainly been easier to construct from a purely mechanical standpoint in addition to the molecules she would have needed to form being inherently less complex. 

Taking pause, Momo reached to scratch the back of her head. A canon or a gun in this situation felt like it would have been a bit much. Because what if a burglar hadn’t entered the mansion – what if no unsavory figures were actually there. Of course, Momo’s parents who were supposed to be fast asleep had dismissed the staff for the rest of the weekend as a form of gratitude for their assistance with the festivities but maybe someone had simply stayed behind a bit longer.

As Momo approached the doorframe leading to the next room, a voice called out from behind her. “So you’re that kid from the Sports Festival with the creation quirk?”

A man was sitting in the chair Momo had used mere moments ago. His shoes were perched on the mahogany as he crossed his arms and eyed her in disapproval. The purple feathers lining his jacket flashed beneath the light of the chandelier. His gold gaze seemed to be drilling into the depths of Momo’s soul as if he were breaking every piece of her apart and haphazardly weaving her back together. But what stood out the most most was his mask that resembled a long curved beak.

Momo eyed him sternly. “What are you doing in my house?”

Whistling to himself, the man took a pause to crane his neck and look at the chandelier. “A mansion and the power to create. You really are the girl who has everything.”

Momo whipped the taser around to him, letting her finger hover over the button. Rather than tensing up at the sight of the device, the man simply sneered at her. Although his mouth was covered by the mask, she could still see his expression twist around it.

“Is a taser truly the best you could come up with?”

Pursuing her lips, Momo held the taser out in front of her at arms length and tried not to waver. The curve of the bird’s mask sent shivers down her spine. Yet, she tried to remind herself to hold her chin high and rise to her full height. She had just gotten her provisional hero license. She’d taken cover along the edge of Kamino Ward to rescue Bakugo. Whoever the strange man in front of her was, she could not show weakness. She could not stand petrified the way she initially had during her final exams while Aizawa stared down at her at Todoroki from the telephone lines.

She was supposed to be stronger now. After stumbling through the forest amid purple smoke, after sneaking out of the hospital to scale the wall outside the Nomu factory, she needed to be more than the girl who defaulted to Russian nesting dolls in a panic. At least, a taser was a more practical de facto choice. Time to ignore the churning in her empty stomach too run down to conjure anything from her lipids. Time to focus on the task at hand.

“Do not come any closer. I do not wish to harm you,” Momo said.

“I couldn’t say the same.”

As the man darted forward, Momo pressed down on the taser. Blue sparks went flying with enough range to give even Kaminari a run for his money. Momo widened her stance and averted her gaze slightly as the man’s body twitched sporadically in pain. But rather than falling to wither on the ground, his palm reached out to grip at the taser directly without a hint of hesitation. Momo’s eyes went wide as the taser in her hand warped and distorted as blue sparks scattered. The burst of sparks flung her against the wall and once she blinked her eyes open again groggily she spotted nothing more than a disfigured mess of metal, plastic and wires where the taser had once been.

Gaze twisting with disgust, the man kicked the taser aside. Approaching the spot where Momo had been knocked onto the carpet, he barely seemed to pay any mind to how his body continued to spasm ever so slightly from the initial shock of the taser. 

Momo started tugging at the edge of her shirt, letting the seams rip so that maybe she’d be able to scrounge up a split second to have a flash bomb emerge from her shoulderblade. But before she had the chance, the man stomped a boot down on her collarbone hard enough to bruise and pinned her firmly to the ground.

“The young people these days are all so sick.” His gaze drifted toward the provisional hero license Momo had let fall onto the carpet earlier in the midst of the ambush. “You’ve been infected too. With that hero’s sickness.”

Momo buckled against him, trying to get any skin exposed so she could produce something. Anything. “What are you talking about?”

“Your ability to play God – to create – that’s the purest manifestation of the disease that’s infected society.”

Everything moved so fast after that. A gun emerged from the pocket of his coat and he pointed it at Momo, making her go as pale as a ghost.

For the longest time Momo had thought the idea of “watching your life flash before your eyes” had been a bit trite. But any disdain over cliches faded away the second a gun was being flashed in your face.

She’d never be able to drink Golden Tips Imperial tea again. Or take a look at all the Russian nesting dolls she’d placed over the fireplace mantle in the parlor. And she couldn’t help but think about how she never was able to go to Venice – and the city was sinking. She knew the city’s days were numbered until it was fully submerged since its foundation had been unstable since before the Dawn of Quirks. But never in a million years did she think that the sinking city would manage to outlive her.

A tear streamed down Momo’s face as the man raised the barrel. Why was she so focused on Venice anyways? It was just a family trip she had missed out on because of the Summer Training Camp. Even if she was not about to die, she might still have never had the chance to visit. There was just so much history woven into the canals and the majestic cathedrals. So many wasted possibilities of things she would never get to see. Just like how all the possibilities of what she could have created with her quirk during a lifetime as a hero were about to slip away.

However, at seemingly the last second the man directed the bullet toward Momo’s shoulder rather than her chest. A red bullet sped toward her faster than Momo could perceive. As the bullet burrowed its way into her shoulder, Momo felt as if all the air had been knocked out of her lungs. Even as the man lifted his boot off of her, Momo still couldn’t breathe.  Hyperventilating, Momo clutched her shoulder as the room grew blurrier. She barely managed to make out how the man let the side of the Great Hall distort into a gaping open hole before exiting through it. 

And then everything went dark.

Rubbing her eyes, Momo blinked at the fluorescent lights overhead. Her mind felt about as foggy as it did in the aftermath of the Summer Training Camp from all the gas. A persistent throbbing spread through her shoulder. As she pushed herself upright in her hospital bed, she spotted a familiar face on the opposite side of the infirmary.

Setting down a syringe, Recovery Girl perked up over how Momo was awake and made a beeline for me. “How are you feeling, dear?”

Momo reached over to pat the spot where she had been shot and flinched slightly at the touch. “My shoulder is a bit sore.”

“That’s unsurprising. Thankfully your wound needed fewer stitches that expected. The bullet didn’t go especially deep so your shoulder should heal up nicely,” Recovery Girl said. 

Momo nodded slowly. “That is good.”

Pulling the collar of her hospital gown aside, Momo noted how flat the stitches were against her skin. Perhaps it wouldn’t even scar much. She let out a sigh of relief. At this rate, she had both the best and worst luck. Bad luck with persistent villain attacks but good luck without coming out on the other side mostly unscathed.

“I will give your parents a call and let them know that you woke up.” Recovery Girl paused. “Is there anything else you need?”

“I think I will be in much better spirits after a relaxing cup of tea.”

“Alright, I will get you some hot water and teabags then, my dear.”

As Recovery Girl exited the room, Momo stared down at her palm and pictured her favorite pink mug for tea back home. Picturing herself holding onto the handle, Momo smiled softly. It seemed like the perfect thing to calm her nerves. The copy she could make wouldn’t be the same as her mug back home but it would be an identical copy down to the last atom – so hopefully Momo could trick herself into being none the wiser.

Momo flexed her fingers and attempted to activate Creation but nothing emerged from her skin. How strange.

She furrowed her brows at the situation. Ceramics were fairly simple. Mostly just clay and silica. She knew the molecules like the back of her hand. Especially after all the nights spent hunched over a chemistry textbook beneath the dim light of her desk. Maybe the grogginess from being unconscious had gotten the best of her. Forming a mug wasn’t supposed to be so difficult.

Momo rolled the left sleeve of her hospital gown higher. She pursued her lips expecting a quick flash of brightness. Nothing. And there wasn’t that telltale sudden fatigue and hunger that followed every time she used her quirk. Momo’s eyes widened in horror as her attacker’s mocking words rang through her mind.

You really are the girl who has everything.

As Recovery Girl entered the room with a paper cup of hot water and some tea bags, Momo let her hands fall to her sides in defeat.  

“My quirk… It’s gone.”

At the dorm kitchen counter, Momo found herself staring off into the distance as she repeatedly scooped spoonfuls of honey into her mug of tea. On autopilot she swirled the honey around after each scoop. Half of an eternity seemed to have passed by the time she held the rim of the mug up to her lips and took a sip. She recoiled at the taste and shook her head. Far too sweet.

With a sigh, Momo set her mug down on the counter. She’d really hoped that the familiar soothing taste of chamomile could help her nerves settle into a new normal, but even something as simple as enjoying a simple cup of tea felt near impossible right now.

Frowning bitterly at the tea cup, Momo held it to her lips to take another sip. She swallowed hard and uncomfortably as she gulped. She could hate to put the tea leaves to waste simply because she added too much sweeter in an attempt to chase the knots in her stomach away. Clutching onto the mug, Momo walked to the sink and turned on the faucet. As she attempted to water down her tea, Momo found herself hoping that maybe it could wash away the words written in the letter that was resting on her desk nestled too close to the wall courtesy of how large her bed was.

Even as she shut her eyes, the image of the letter addressed from Majestic’s agency still stung. It is too dangerous for a work study student without a quirk to be at our agency. A condemnation that Momo would maybe never be more than one of the girls in Uwabami’s hair commercials. Biting her lip, Momo paused to dump the tea down the drain. Nevermind the wastefulness. Momo couldn’t picture forcing herself to drink it anymore. Some foolish part of her had hoped that her grades, her past recommendations, all the work she’d put in through the years would’ve been worth something. But she was wrong.

Without her quirk, Momo was little more than a Russian nesting doll. Pretty and perfectly put together on the outside but ultimately hollow.

As she reached for the sponge to clean off the mug, she found herself wishing she could use it to scrub herself raw too. Because she could blame herself for being caught off guard in her own home all she wanted, but heroes had to be prepared for everything. The villain was right. Was a taser really the best she could muster? She could have made a flashbomb, a jetpack – anything if she had just acted faster rather than spending so much of her time frozen in place. Suds spilled over the mug and Momo set it down at the base of the sink. Maybe she had it coming. Did she really deserve her spot at UA if she couldn’t use Creation to half of its potential? She always wasted so much time reciting chemical formulas in her mind rather than actually catalyzing a reaction and making something of herself.

Laughter echoed from the living room. Following the sound, Momo stepped out of the kitchen to spot Sero firmly pat Kirishima on the shoulder and then wrap him into an embrace. Kirishima was covered in dust and grime. A handful of small cuts covered his body and his hair looked out disheveled. As Kaminari approached Kirishima to loop an arm around his shoulders, Momo could only make out snippets of the conversation. Blade villain. Trigger. Bullets. Quirk-erasing.

Going pale, Momo turned onto her heels to return to the kitchen. Until Kirishima called out to her. Pumping his fist in determination he locked eyes with Momo.

“Don’t worry, Yaomomo. We’re going to catch the villain who took your quirk. You can count on us.”

“Thank you, Kirishima.”

Momo let her face stretch into a picture-perfect smile. The plastered kind. The smile she had practiced in the mirror until it looked real. Because if she couldn’t use her quirk, if she couldn’t make herself useful, the least she could do was ensure that she wouldn’t force anyone to worry about her. After all, she’d been born with anything – she couldn’t afford to fail – it would be an insult to those who succeeded despite starting out with so much less than her. With her running start, Momo couldn’t just waste that opportunity and drop out of the race as much as she might have wanted to.

Eyes going slightly glassy, Momo tried to smile when no one was looking. She tried to be happy for Kirishima. Because he was doing actual heroic work during his work study. Fighting villains. Helping track down crime rings. Actually making a difference. And he deserved it especially after working so much to harness his quirk into something more. And he didn’t freeze up in a fight, he’d harness his determination and press forward no matter what the odds of winning the fight were.

Yet as she rinsed off the mug, Momo couldn’t help but feel that she was no better than a damsel in a tower. Because part of Momo felt so helpless because she knew she wouldn’t be able to track down the villain herself.

Grunting under the strain, Momo pushed at the bedframe but it would barely budge. For the millionth time she found herself desperately wishing she had refrained from having something so extravagant get shipped into the dormitories. That being said, the rooms were certainly much more modest than she had been anticipating.

Dripping in sweat, Momo wondered if she should have called someone to help her move her items out. But she wanted to at least something on her own rather than constantly being treated like a wounded bird. Because maybe what everyone was silently thinking was right. Maybe she really was nothing without Creation.

Actually, for that matter, Momo should have probably informed her instructors that she intended to leave 1A. Wrapping her arms around herself, Momo leaned against the canopy as her stomach churned at the idea of telling Aizawa that she was without a shadow of a doubt unsuited for the hero course. 

The proper paperwork could be arranged later. For now she had to get out of the 1A dorms. Shutting her eyes, she recalled her classmates' stories about slashing their way through robots during the entrance exams. An assessment she had managed to escape because of her recommendation letter. Sure, she would have taken down robots with canons had she needed to take the exam. But would she have actually made the cut if she hadn’t been granted recommendation student status because of supposedly limitless potential? Potential that was now gone.

She was barely qualified with her quirk let alone without it. After all, while her classmates charged headfirst into a fight she always found herself scrambling to figure out what to do.

A voice tugged Momo back to reality. “Yaomomo, what are you doing?”

Green eyes stared back at Momo. As he took in the scene of Momo failing to make her bed budge even an inch, Midoriya raised a brow at her. Without a word, Momo collapsed onto the carpet. After a couple minutes of saying nothing, Midoriya sat down next to Momo and blinked back expectantly. Sighing, Momo sat herself upright. This was not the sort of scene she could play off. Midoriya with analysis notebooks perpetually tucked away under his arms was far too perceptive to fall for Momo’s fake smiles.

“Do I belong in the hero course at this point?” Momo asked.

Midoriya’s eyes went wide. “Of course you do. And it’s not like they can take away your provisional hero license for getting attacked in your own home.”

“You know that is not what I meant.” Momo stared down at her hands that used to be able to craft practically anything. “Can I be a hero if Creation is gone?”

“It could still come back.”

“And what if it does not?”

Silence stretched on between Momo and Midoriya. The latter stared at his arm for a while and traced his fingers along the scar tissue before he looked at Momo again and spoke up. “Maybe you could become a hero without a quirk.”

“Is that even possible?” Momo choked out.

“I don’t know. I was a late bloomer so for the longest time I was really set on becoming a hero even without a quirk.” Staring at the carpet, Midoriya wove his fingers together. “Of course, things changed when my quirk came in. But I still like to think that quirks aren’t necessary for being heroic.”

Momo watched how Midoriya tensed up in a way that she’d hadn’t seen before. At this stage, Momo had thought she’d gotten a pretty accurate sense of her classmate. He was the kind of person whose body would move to save someone without even thinking. No second guessing. The exact opposite of Momo. But as Midoroya stared off blankly it seemed like maybe – just maybe – he was someone who also often found himself at the edge of that sea of doubt that Momo was so often drowning in.

With a sigh, Momo tossed her head back to lean against the bedframe that was far too bulky. “Still, even if I am permitted to stay in the course, what am I to do while the rest of you are training your quirks?”

Midoriya tapped his chin in contemplation before he suddenly lit up. “I think I have just the idea. Let me introduce you to someone.”

The big metal door of the workshop flew off his hinges amidst an explosion as Momo and Midoriya approached the wing of the school with the support course students. Momo’s eyes went wide as some shrapnel scattered across the hallway but Midoriya didn’t even flinch as the trail of smoke billowed out of the workshop. Maybe a childhood spent with Bakugo had made Midoriya indifferent toward explosions. Unless there was some other reason.

Momo got a sense of who that reason was mere seconds later. A girl with pink hair wearing goggles around her head practically skipped out of the room. Oil and grime dripped down her tank top as she stepped out of the room to wave at Midoriya.

“Hey, 10 000 000 points. Are you here to test out any of my new babies?”

As Midoriya sheepishly waved back, Momo slowly nodded in recognition. Wasn’t that the girl Midoriya had teamed up with during the Sports Festival? The one who had outfitted Iida with a bunch of equipment?

“Maybe some other time, Hatsume.” Midoriya gestured toward Momo. “I was actually wondering if maybe my friend could help in your workshop. Her work study got put on hold… for reasons. So Momo has a lot of time on her hands.

Not missing a beat, Hatsume lit up. Her eyes seemed to zoom in on Momo as if quickly analyzing every inch of her like she was some kind of blueprint. “Sure! I could use an assistant, Mr. 10 000 000 points.”

Hatsume raced forward to Momo grab her by the wrist. “Come on, new assistant! No time to waste. I have a lot of big plans for today.”

Before Momo had even gotten the chance to wave goodbye to Midoriya, Hatsume had already dragged her behind the veil of smoke into the workshop. Random lose pages of sketches and notes were scattered all over the floor. A tin of grease had been knocked over and formed a small puddle on the floor. Half-finished wiring saw scattered all over the workbench and some larger pieces of metalwork rested against the milling machine in the corner.

Hatsume let go of Momo and headed straight for a canister attached to some straps. She shook her head in disapproval as she set the work-in-progress prototype down and started racing toward the other end of the room.

Kneeling on the floor, Hatsume rummaged around in a cabinet filled with several canisters before groaning and raising her hands up in defeat. Hatsume paced back and forth across the room, before flopping over onto a swivel chair. As she leaned back into it, Hatsume reached for a wrench and absent-mindedly twirled it around her finger as if she had briefly started to forget that someone else was in her workshop.

“Man, if only I could get my hands on some Wonderflonium.”

“As in the explosive?” Momo asked.

“Yes, what else is going to make the perfect jetpack fuel?”

“I can get you Wonderflonium,” Momo said without hesitation.

“Really?!” Hatsume practically jumped out of her seat. “I love you so much already!”

Just when Momo was about to roll up her sleeves and have a vial of the vibrant pink substance emerge from her skin, she froze as reality hit her. She bit down hard on her tongue and started chastising herself internally. Offering to make anything was still second nature. Because she had to be useful. Because she still had to prove that she had earned her place here.

Momo stared at her now useful arm in defeat. It wouldn’t matter how many chocolate bars she stuffed her face with or how many cups of tea she downed. No amount of lipids in her system could solve the issue at hand.

“Oh right… not anymore. I am so sorry.”

Shrugging, Hatsume simply swatted at the air around herself dismissively. “No biggie, we can find some other way to make beautiful babies.”

At that moment, Momo felt as if her stomach had slipped onto the ground. She could sense her face heating up as her face went beet-red. Maybe – hopefully – her ears were playing tricks on her.

“Making babies?” Momo asked.

“Yes, I really want to work on this jetpack baby!” Beaming from ear to ear, Hatsume waved a large blueprint sketch in the air. As she slammed the blueprint on the table, Hatsume grabbed a pencil from behind her ear and chewed on the eraser at the end of it in thought.  

Momo’s chest sank with relief. So that is what Hatsume meant by babies. Momo’s heart rate slowed down slightly from the realization. She felt as if she had nearly gotten a heart attack from what she had thought was the boldest proposition she had ever heard.

“I just need a more powerful fuel source that also doesn’t just explode on ignition,” Hatsume murmured to herself.

“What about a biofuel?” Momo asked before she could stop herself. She flushed slightly as Hatsume raised an eyebrow at her. Nervously, scratching the back of her neck Momo cleared her throat. “It should give you the longest continuous burn time. Of course, it depends on what your goal is for the jetpack”

“Wow! You know your stuff.” Hatsume reached over to scribble some notes down on the edges of the blueprint. “I didn’t know that the hero course gets taught this kind of stuff.”

Blushing, Momo reached out to scratch the back of her own head. “Oh, we aren’t. I simply had a vested interest.”

“Well, it’s great that you did! Because now my jetpack baby can be bigger and badder than ever.”

Cackling to herself like a mad scientist, Hatsume waved Momo to sit down beside her. As she based Momo a pencil, Momo could have sworn that she felt a spark at her fingertips as her and Hatsume’s hands touched. But she knew that wasn’t Hatsume’s quirk. Probably just static or her mind playing tricks on her.

As the girls huddled over the blueprint and scribbled down design improvements and suitable fuel types along the margin, the persistent ache in Momo’s shoulder grew a little more numb. And for the first time in weeks, Momo felt like someone was finally looking at her like she was more than a matryoshka doll with nothing nesting inside.

According to Hatsume, the dorm for the support course students was even more of a mess than her workshop given how many students were tinkering away at countless inventions and projects in limited shared space. That was probably a huge part of why Hatsume’s newest baby-in-progress bore an uncanny resemblance to a Roomba. Although with the amount of disarray in the workshop, Momo wasn’t sure how much help an upgraded vacuum would be if the dorm was supposedly in even worse shape.

Staring at the flat disk perched on the workbench, Momo warily raised a brow as Hatsume brought a jar of potassium over. Hatsume whistled to herself as she added the soft silvery substance into the chamber of the would-be-vacuum. Yet, the second that Hatsume pulled out a beaker of distilled water, Momo went pale. Hatsume better not be planning the chemical reaction she thought she was.

Momo made a dive for one of the larger inventions Hatsume had left scattered on the floor and took cover behind it. She refused to lose her eyebrows again. After all, she had already been to the infirmary twice that week to seek out Recovery Girl’s aid in regrowing her brows.

A loud boom sounded from the work bench. Smoke billowed around in the aftermath as Hatsume cackled loudly and peeled off her goggles, showing that her eyebrows were unscathed. Maybe it was high time for Momo to invest in goggles too.
 
Momo coughed up smoke as she emerged from behind the jetpack prototype she had used as a shield. “Is there any way to make this less explosive?”

“But explosions are half the fun.”

“I suppose it is a part of the trial and error process.”

“Exactly, now you get it,” Hatsume laughed. “Plus, I was thinking that having a really strong exothermic reaction could help the Roomba move around faster.”

Crossing her arms, Momo rolled her eyes fondly. “But it might also char the flooring in your dorm in the process.”

“You win some, you lose some. That’s the beauty of experiments.”

Momo opened the window to let some of the smoke out. Initially, she had been confused about how the fire alarms at UA weren’t constantly getting set off by Hatsume, but it seemed that any smoke detectors were conspicuously absent for the workshop. At least there was some semblance of safety with the half a dozen fire extinguishers in the corner. Momo just wished that Hatsume didn’t keep going through them like most people did bottles of water. 

As the smoke subsided, Momo returned to sit back down next to Hatsume at the workbench. Peeling open the top of the Roomba, she fished out the charred circuit boards. As she reached into one of the drawers to gather some new wires to weld together, she spotted crosshairs zeroing in on her.

“If you weren’t in the hero course, you could’ve easily made it into the support course,” Hatsume said.

“Do you really think so?”

Hatsume nodded enthusiastically. “I know so.”

Going red, Momo proceeded to stare down at her shoes. UA’s support course was one of the most competitive ones in the world. Certainly, Momo could not compete on that level and Hatsume was simply being polite. Plus, with how miserably Momo had failed as a hero to the point she had let her quirk get stolen, how could she possibly have been a good fit for the support course? She’d failed the mission she had been striving toward her whole life so how could she succeed at anything she hadn’t been spending a lifetime preparing for?

Also, Momo knowing how a circuit was constructed or how a chemical reaction worked was not anything special. After all, her quirk demanded that she understand the world around her on a molecular level. Her hero costume included a book because she couldn’t possibly remember all the information at once. Anyone could have a good gasp of chemistry with good tutors and enough nights huddled over textbooks. Momo was far from anything special. In fact, she was almost certain that if there was someone out there better at retaining information on chemistry they most certainly utilized Creation better than she ever could.

Maybe someone like that wouldn’t have had their quirk get stripped away from them.

“You give me too much credit,” Momo said. “I needed to learn all of this stuff for my quirk. I doubt I would have retained this much information if I hadn’t been attempting to use my quirk to the fullest.”

“Ooh, what is it?”

“What is what?”

“Your quirk?” Hatsume asked.

Momo froze and turned toward Hatsume. Right. She didn’t know that Momo had lost her quirk. She didn’t know that she was looking at a shell of a person. Momo’s gut twisted at the idea of how Hatsume’s bright expression would shift into pity as soon as she had the full picture.

“I can make anything inorganic with the lipids in my body,” Momo uttered quietly enough that she hoped Hatsume maybe wouldn’t catch everything she said.

Practically leaping out of her chair, Hatsume squealed and clapped both hands together. “What?! That’s so cool! We can make even more babies now. You’re the best assistant ever!”

“You might want to take that back.” Momo bit down on her lower lip hard enough to draw a bit of blood. “My quirk got taken away. By a quirk-erasing bullet.”

Momo expected Hatsume to go still. For her eyes to droop as if Momo had turned into a ghost. But instead her brows twisted together as she was practically fuming. “That’s not how you use babies! You don’t use them to hurt people. Tell me who did this!”

“I don’t know. It is still being investigated.”

Taking a deep breath, Hatsume reached out to place both hands on Momo’s shoulders. “Well, we’re going to work on a super cute baby together so that you can show whoever did this to you who’s boss next time you see them.”

Ever a whirlwind, Hatsume started unrolling the blueprint design of the jetpack. In a fury, she scribbled on the page and added seemingly countless spikes as if that would maybe scare off whatever villain had taken away Momo’s quirk. Without looking up from the blueprint she was currently erasing details from, Hatsume cleared her throat.

“Also you know you still get the credit for all the science-y stuff you know, right? You did all the learning, not your quirk.”

“If you say so,” Momo said.

She didn’t even process her own words. Instead all she could concentrate on was how focused Hatsume was on the design in front of her as she scribbled away at the sketch of the engine’s interior with more vigor than ever before.

Crawling on her desk to reach the tallest shelf, Hatsume wobbled a bit and let out a yawn. As Hatsume blinked her eyes groggily, Momo raced over across the workshop to hold out her arm and assist Hatsume in stepping back onto solid ground. Hatsume held up a small metal cylinder, prompting a chuckle from Momo.

“You know you could just ask if you need help grabbing something, right?” Momo said.

Crossing her arms, Hatsume gestured between the top of her head and Momo’s. “Bragging about your height, huh?”

“You are perfectly aware that is not what I meant.”

While faint laughter filled the crowded room, Hatsume walked back to the workbench and rolled some blueprints open and placed some random blocks of granite on them to hold them open. Momo had offered to fetch some high-quality gold paperweights from her dorm room but Hatsume had dismissed the idea. Apparently, she would rather have her favorite assistant by her side for longer than some fancy paperweights. 

Heat had risen to Momo’s face at the comment. When was the last time someone had asked her to simply stay by her side? She shuddered at the reminder of her most recent visit back home. While she brewed a kettle of lavender tea in the kitchen, she had felt her mother’s gaze on her the whole time. Her mother’s gaze had been as heavy as lead. She had stared at Momo like she was a dead girl walking. Like she was trembling in fear as she dreaded the idea of her ghost of a daughter slipping away from her and returning to a grave along with all of the wasted potential.

Snapping back to reality, Momo turned back to Hatsume and looked over her shoulder to get a better look at the blueprints. Instead she caught a glimpse of the bags under Hatsume’s eyes. Momo’s eyes proceeded to dart around the room as Momo noted that the only evidence Hatsume had recently had any sustenance was an empty back of Doritos sitting in the rubbish bin.

Momo picked at her cuticles, trying to construct a hypothesis for how to try and convince Hatsume to indulge in at least the bare minimum of self-care. Hatsume would most likely be resistant to a larger meal that would take too much time away from her babies, but perhaps something small would be manageable.

“Would you like to grab tea?” Momo asked.

Refusing to look away from her blueprints, Hatsume shook her head. “Nah, I’d rather focus on making my babies.”

Momo blushed slightly as she leaned into Hatsume’s line of sight. She was not going to give up so easily. Because whether or not Hatsume knew it, almost everything could be made better with just a little bit of tea involved. “It does not have to be now… just eventually.”

“It doesn’t really seem like my thing – or I guess my cup of tea.”

“But it can be quite delicious.”

“Eh, hydration is overrated.”

“Agree to disagree. I think some tea and snacks would do you some good.” Momo crossed her arms. “If Creation taught me anything, it is that making anything is far more difficult on an empty stomach.”

Raising a brow at Momo as if a little bit surprised by the sight in front of her, Hatsume started to roll up some of her blueprints.

“Fine, if you insist. I wouldn’t want to disappoint my favorite assistant.” 

Rolling up her sleeves, Hatsume turned to face Momo. “Does tomorrow work for you?”

Momo beamed back at her. “Tomorrow is perfect!”

In front of her vanity, Momo eyed herself in the mirror. She stared at her red sweater dress, wondering if the color was too bold. Then again maybe it would remind Hatsume of sticks of dynamite – and there was evidently nothing more Hatsume loved than explosions. Expect her inventions of course.

Scrutinizing her hair, Momo undid her hair elastic and tied her ponytail up one more time. Why was she focused on looking put together? She saw Hatsume every day and was covered in grease half the time from leaning against Hatsume’s workbench. Stepping away from the mirror as she slipped on a silver bracelet, Momo decided that maybe things were different because it was the first time she was spending time with Hatsume outside of the workshop. That was probably all there was to it. Nothing more.

Suddenly, her froze buzzed. She reached to pick the call the second she saw her father’s photo flash on the screen.

“How are you faring, Momo?” he asked.

Pulling at the edges of the sleeves of her sweater dress, Momo bit her lip as she took the time to contemplate. There was a slight flutter in her chest that she couldn’t quite explain. But it was definitely leagues better than the dumb ache that had been eating away at her for weeks. 

“I am doing a bit better.”

“Good.” Static silence resounded from the other end of the line before Momo’s father spoke up again. “Have you been able to return to any hero course training yet?”

“Just my usual classes mostly, but I have not been able to participate in the usual hero training just yet.” 

Her stomach twisted at the thought of how she had practically been putting her recommendation to the hero course to waste. It was as if she had practically spit on the advantage her family had given her by placing her in a middle school full of UA alumni. Swallowing hard, she decided that she needed to reassure her father somehow.

“However, I have been helping one of the support students out.”

“That’s good.” Eternity seemed to stretch on before Momo’s father spoke up again. “You know we love you always and no matter what.”

“I know,” Momo said. “I love you too.”

“You don’t need to be a hero to make us proud, Momo?” He took a moment to pause. “It is alright to move on from UA if it is not giving you what you need.”

“I understand, Father.”

“Okay, Sweetheart. Just keep me and your mother in the loop, okay? We love you so much.”

As Momo hung up, she sat down on her mattress and blankly stared at the wall. The memory of trying to get her bedframe to budge and shove it out of her dorm room reemerged. Frowning, she clutched onto her stomach. She could practically sense all the unused lipids floating around in there that she would never be able to craft something from.

Wiring together circuits and mixing chemicals with Hatsume was fun. But was it enough? Could it fill the gaping hole Creation had left behind? Would it allow Momo to become even a fraction of how useful she was back when she still had her quirk?

Momo looked outside the window so she wouldn’t need to accidentally spot her face in the vanity mirror from the corner of her eye. Pulling away the skin around her nails, part of Momo wished she hadn’t picked up the call. She knew her father meant well. That he only had her best interests in mind. It had just been a reminder that she wasn’t the girl she used to be. The girl she had almost forgotten was out of reach amidst all the time she had been spending with Hatsume.

A knock sounded from the other side of the door. Stumbling to her feet, Momo raced over and opened it. On the other side stood, Hatsume waved back at her with her hair haphazardly tossed into a ponytail.

Pointing at Hatsume’s ponytail, Momo forced a smile and tried to chase away the persistent spiral of thoughts in her head. “We match.”

“What can I say? We both have good taste,” Hatsume said. “Now where’s the caffeine I was promised. I sure could use some before getting back to work.”

“Follow me.”

Momo placed Hatsume’s hand on her own and led her to the kitchen. As Hatsume settled down at the kitchen table. Momo filled a measuring cup with water and placed it in the microwave. She cringed as the water spun around on the microwave’s glass plate because she knew it was a crime for tea enthusiasts everywhere to use a microwave when she had perfectly good kettles. However, she knew Hatsume was probably abuzz with the desire to tinker around with her babies again so Momo wanted to be as efficient as possible with how she and Hatsume spent their time together.

As the microwave rang, Momo retrieved the water and poured it into two mugs before adding some tea diffusers with Golden Tips Imperial leaves. She placed the mugs on the table and sat down across from Hatsume. After a couple of minutes, Hatsume reached out for the mug and took several wistful gulps before beaming back at Momo.

“Not bad. Maybe tea time isn’t overrated.”

“I’d hope so. After all, this is my favorite tea.”

Momo leaned her chin on her hand as she took a gulp of her own tea. Getting Hatsume to sustain herself on anything other than vending machine food was easier said than done but it was definitely worth it. As she watched Hatsume take another wistful gulp, Momo’s started to sink while she remembered her reality. The longer Creation was gone, the less sustainable remaining at UA might become. All the years reciting chemical formulas had lost their impact. She had spent her entire life working toward a future that might no longer be there. How much longer was she going to keep chasing that future?

It was as fleeting as this rare moment of sharing a cup of tea with Hatsume.

The words slipped out of Momo’s mouth before she could think. “I’m thinking of leaving UA.”

The crosshairs on Hatsume’s pupils seemed to sharpen as soon as she heard those words. “Why would you do that?”

“Well, I don’t have a quirk. I do not see how I can be useful here,” Momo said.

“You seem pretty useful to me.”

“You’re just trying to butter up your favorite assistant.” Momo tried to laugh at her own joke but her voice was little more than a hollow echo.

For the first time, Hatsume was looking at Momo. Like really looking at her. Not just taking a quick glance away from her inventions or whatever else was holding her attention. Clasping her hands atop the table, Momo struggled to hold Hatsume’s gaze. The words started to clog her throat. But Hatsume looked at her with curiosity, not judgement. Not like she was some broken prototype or machine that needed to be fixed.

“I don’t recognize who I am without Creation. I’m not who I used to be.”

“You know you’re not just a human 3D printer, right? Sure, it is the coolest quirk ever – but you know you are still there without it right.” Hatsume pointed toward Momo. “Do you like the person you are now?”

“I don’t know.”

Nodding slowly, Hatsume proceeded to simply raise her cup to her mouth and down the last sip of tea. She stood up and held out her hand to Momo.

“Want to go and make some babies now? We might not be using a fancy quirk but I think it’s still pretty fun.”

“Yes, let us go make some babies.” Momo blushed and buried her face in her palms as she processed what she had just said. “I can’t believe I just said it like that.”

Fanning her face so that it wouldn’t run so hot anymore. And as she took Hatsume’s hand that inexplicable warmth filled her chest again. The sensation chased away the desire to shove her bed out of her dorm room. Because maybe as long as Hatsume was by her side, Momo could still matter at UA even if it wasn’t in the same way as before.

In the middle of the night, a loud knock at her door made Momo stir out of her. Tossing off her covers, Momo rose out from under her covers and rubbed the crust out of her eyes. Hopefully, it was not one of her classmates again. The night before the math exam was not the time to start studying and asking your classmates for help well past the witching hour.

Yet, as she opened the door Momo spotted a familiar pink-haired girl in the doorway. Decked out in her pajamas, Hatsume had draped a toolbelt around her waist and still had her goggles perched atop her head as always.

Suppressing a yawn, Momo furrowed her brows. “What’s going on, Hatsume? Are you okay?”

Hatsume’s eyes lit up as she stepped into Momo’s room while holding her arms behind her back. “Yes, everything’s great. I just had to show you my newest baby.”

“Can this not wait until morning?”

“Nope!”

Grinning, Hatsume pulled her newest out from behind her back and held it up to Momo. A silver exterior shone beneath the moonlight coming in through Momo’s bedroom window. As Momo peered closer she recognized a handle and a spout as well as several dials on the side, which made her eyes go wide.

“A tea kettle?” Momo asked.

“I thought you might want one in the workshop.” Going a bit jittery, Hatsume started to avoid direct eye contact and fidget with her toolbelt. “It has seven different temperature settings because that’s apparently something people care about. Also, it can keep water hot for twelve hours. And there are two different diffusers depending on the size of the tea leaves.”

“This is perfect.” Momo clutched the kettle close to her chest. “Thank you, Hatsume.”

“Anything for my favorite assistant,” Hatsume said.

Shaking her head fondly, Momo cradled the kettle as she led Hatsume toward the door. “Well, we better both get some sleep. Otherwise, we will need to drink our weight in tea to stay awake whether we like it or not.”

“Night, Yaoyorozu,” Hatsume said as she reached to shut the door.

“Good night, Hatsume.”

As the door closed, the jittery feeling in Momo’s chest grew more prominent than ever. Even though her limbs weighed like bricks with how tired she was, part of Momo wanted to skip around the room. She smiled down at the kettle. With how much Hatsume loved her babies Momo never expected that she’d given one of them up – let alone make an invention just for Momo.

Momo set the kettle down on her desk. She found herself absentmindedly reaching for the handle of her desk drawer and she pulled it open. Right in the middle of it her license looked back at her. The word Creati written out in bold typeface made her ribs constrict. She shut her desk drawer, letting her provisional hero license vanish out of sight. Her gaze drifted toward the notes from when she had reviewed integration with Mina. Reaching out to stroke the handle of the tea kettle. Maybe Hatsume was right. Even if Momo wasn’t as useful without Creation, perhaps she could still matter in other ways.

A knock sounded on the other side of the door. The sound was barely audible as Hatsume drilled away at the base of the jetpack engine. Leaving Hatsume undisrupted, Momo approached the door. Draped in his capture weapon, Aizawa blinked back at her from the other side. Quietly he waved her over to follow him to one of the empty classrooms near the workshop. He pulled out two plastic chairs and urged Momo to sit down.

Aizawa didn’t beat around the bush. “There is a raid happening soon. Against the yakuza group responsible for taking your quirk.”

His eyes tinted ever so slightly red stared back at Momo as if he were expecting an onslaught of questions. And he wasn’t wrong. Would the man who had shot Momo be present at the raid? Was there more to the bullets? How long had the authorities known more details about the group behind what had happened to Momo?

But something stirred in Momo’s mind. Something that had been squashed back when she had received the letter taking back her work study offer. 

Swallowing hard, she pictured all the hours she had spent at the workbench together aiding Hatsume in assembling her inventions. Without a quirk. Maybe in some way the core element of Creation remained a part of her. Except this time, Momo refused to remain frozen in place, unsure of what action to take or what to create in the heat of the moment.

“Can I join the raid?” Momo asked.

“No, it’s too dangerous.”

Momo crossed her arms. “Because I’m quirkless?”

“No. There shouldn’t be any more people involved than strictly necessary.”

“But I want to help – ”

“You can help by staying out of harm’s way,” Aizawa said.

As he started standing up, Momo cleared her throat. She refused to back down or remain trapped by inaction this time. “Are any of my classmates involved in the raid?”

No response. But based on the way Aizawa’s brows twitched and he avoided looking her way, Momo had some idea of what the answer would have been.

“Please, Aizawa. One of my attackers was part of this yakuza group, right? So I have some idea of how they fight.” She vaguely gestured in the direction where the workshop was. “Plus, Hatsume and I can help with our inventions.”

“It’s still a no, kid.”

“Remember Kamino?” Momo placed both hands on her side. “Even if you tell me to back off from the fight, I will not do it. I will find out when and where the raid is taking place on my own if I have to.”

Aizawa scowled back at her, but his tense posture eventually softened. With an aggrieved sigh, he eventually dragged a hand across his face. “It was a mistake to tell you about the raid. And here I was thinking you were one of the less annoying problem children.”

Once Aizawa had departed in exasperation, Momo rose from her seat and left the classroom behind. As she approached Hatsume’s workshop, she curled her fists in determination. This was her chance. To see whether she could still strive to become the hero that her license claimed she was. That part of her could still be Creati even if the original namesake of her hero name had vanished.

The entire raid had been a blur. At this stage, the entire Shie Hassaikai hideout had been reduced to a gaping pit of rubble. In the distance, Momo caught a glimpse of Togata punching a familiar man in a green coat with purple trim. Overhaul. Momo could finally put a name to the face who had taken away Creation.

Meanwhile, Hatsume soared overhead with her jetpack. Screaming about how not to abuse precious babies, she sped toward a figure dressed in a white cloak and kicked him in the head at full speed.

From the corner of her eye, Momo spotted Togata phase out the ground and start to race toward Eri who was trembling on the ground while wrapped in Togata’s cape. As a fallen Shie Hassaikai member dressed in black aimed the gun toward Eri, Momo broke into a cold sweat. 

Togata might not make it in time.

Bracing herself against a larger fractured block of cement, Momo ignited her jetpack. She kept her trajectory close to the ground – she needed speed not height. As she sped closer toward Eri, pieces of rubble latched onto the jetpack cylinders and ripped it clean open. Upon impact, Momo rolled onto the ground. Her ankle snapped painfully. Clenching her jaw, Momo hobbled over the last stretch to Eri. Momo placed herself in front of Eri. As she started turning around to get a better look of where all the Shie Hassakai members were, a sharp pain hit her collarbone, sinking deep.

With all the breath knocked out of her lungs, Momo hurled over. She pressed her hands firmly against the shot wound, gathering the fabric of her tracksuit around it in an attempt to ease the bleeding.

Overhaul laughed. “Taking another bullet, huh? Did you enjoy the first one that much?”

While Momo winced and clutched onto the spot where the bullet had burst through her collarbone, Overhaul kicked her aside and sent small pieces of rubble flying toward her face. Grinning, he started to march toward Eri. Momo coughed up the dust she had breathed in and stumbled to pull herself upright. No remaining frozen in place. She had to act this time.

A couple meters away she spotted her jetpack scattered on the ground. The cylinders were entirely warped and the engine had practically collapsed. Still, Momo dragged herself closer toward the ruined jetpack. Her nails chipped as she pulled the metal of the collapsed cylinder open. Digging her nails into the base of the cylinder, Momo had a hunch that Hatsume had outfitted the jetpack with more than the biofuel the both of them had agreed upon. Once Momo pulled her arm from out of the ruined jetpack, a small piece of soft metal rested in her palm.

As Momo held the piece of potassium to her chest, she smiled. You could take Hatsume out of the explosion but you couldn’t take the explosion out of Hatsume.

Gritting her teeth, Momo hurled the piece of potassium into a puddle of water that had pooled from a burst pipe which got torn apart when Overhaul ripped the ground open. As soon as the potassium hit the surface of the water a bright violet-pink flame sparked, sending Overhaul flying against a beam of concrete. Smoke billowed from the explosion as a sizzling sound from the base that had formed echoed.

Momo’s world grew blurry as fumes danced around her. Wiping blood away from the corner of her mouth, her eyelids grew impossibly heavy. Through the fumes, she spotted Overhaul peeling himself off of the beam and limping toward one of the yakuza members who was splayed on the ground. Crazed laughter resounded as Overhaul reached out to wrap his hand around the face of the other Shie Hassaikai member.

At the sight of the two bodies twisting together to form one, Momo recoiled and her vision grew even spottier. Before her world went dark again, she just barely made out Hatsume’s silhouette running toward her.

Monitors beeped repetitively as Momo’s back rested against a mattress that felt far too thin. She could sense a slightly pricking sensation from where an IV drip had been hooked to her arm. As Momo peeled her eyelids open, she found herself atop a hospital bed in a starch white room that was near empty aside from a familiar pink-haired girl sitting in a rickety plastic chair by the door. Hatsume looked up from the rollerblade that she was attaching small engines to with a screwdriver. Her eyes zeroed in on Momo.

“That was a pretty big explosion!” Hatsume said.

Momo attempted to shrug but a sharp ache shot through her shoulder blade. “I learned from the best.”

Setting the jet-powered rollerblade aside, Hatsume rose from her seat and made a beeline toward Momo. Her brows furrowed as she looked at Momo.

“Do you think you’ll be back in the workshop soon?”

“I believe so. I have recovered from worse injuries this year.”

Hatsume nodded, pressing her lips together in a resolute manner. “Well, once you get back I think a promotion is in order, dear assistant.”

“What sort of promotion were you thinking of? Senior assistant?”

“I was thinking more like… girlfriend.” 

Momo blinked back at Hatsume. Her jaw fell agape. Were her ears deceiving her? Or was this some sort of hallucination courtesy of whatever painkillers the hospital staff had given her. “Did you say what I think you did or have I misheard?”

Laughing, Hatsume leaned over the metal frame at the edge of Momo’s hospital bed. “What? Did you think that I would make a baby for just anyone? Plus, you were the one who invited me for tea.”

Blushing, it finally dawned on Momo that the way her heart raced when Hatsume looked toward her probably wasn’t coincidental. As she pictured sitting across from Hatsume at the kitchen table on a regular basis, the thought alone filled her with more warmth than any mug of tea alone ever could.

Momo smiled as she reached out to take Hatsume’s hand. “I suppose I’ll take your promotion offer since you’ve offered it so kindly.”

On the green couch of the living room in 1A’s dorm, Hatsume leaned against Momo’s shoulder. As she snored softly, Momo slowly flipped through the pages of a physical chemistry textbook. While Momo slipped a sticky tab onto one of the pages on entropy, she smiled down at the head resting on her good shoulder. Slowly, she peeled the goggles off of Hatsume’s head and gently set them down on the coffee table.

Pink hair shone in the warm lightning of the living room. Dark circles Hatsume had most likely been obvious too were etched beneath her eyes. Momo slowly tucked a strand behind her ear. Hatsume had been insistent that she needed “just a couple more minutes” in the workshop before she could take a break. Of course, minutes turned into hours. Eventually, Momo found Hatsume collapsed against her workbench sound asleep. Her knees had buckled endlessly as she had carried Hatsume princess style to 1A’s living room.

As much as she would have enjoyed chatting with Hatsume over a cup of tea instead, Momo was far from opposed to the impromptu bonding time. Besides, Momo wouldn’t have it any other way. Because without Hatsume being focused on her babies first and foremost she wouldn’t be Hatsume.

While Momo fished out a highlighter to start marking the next chapter of her textbook, she heard a voice call back behind her. “Yaoyorozu.”

Turning around, Momo placed a finger in front of her lips and gestured toward Hatsume’s snoring form. Aizawa nodded curtly back at her. Momo’s gaze drifted toward Aizawa’s arm and she spotted how he was cradling Eri who stared back at Momo with skittish red eyes. Upon Aizawa waving her over, Momo placed Hatsume’s head on a couch pillow and walked over.

Under his breath, Aizawa whispered as he turned to Momo. “Eri’s been practicing her quirk. There’s a chance she might be able to help you get your quirk back.”

Momo’s mouth fell agape. When she had heard that the antidote had not been recovered from the Shie Hassakai, she had started to let the last traces of holding out for a future in which she could get Creation back slip away. She stared down at her arms, imagining a mug emerging from it. The memory of the familiar tingling sensation against her skin from activating Creation was so faint now.

As Aizawa set Eri down on the ground, Momo knelt in front of her. Holding onto Momo’s shoulders, Eri pressed her lips together. Momo half-expected a flash of light. Eri’s slumped over in defeat. She took a step back from Momo as her lips started to quiver and tears brimmed in the corners of her eyes.

And for a moment Momo saw another little girl in Eri’s place. A girl with dark hair bound into a ponytail who looked a little tall for her age. A girl holding onto the very first Russian nesting doll that had emerged from her skin. A girl so often surrounded by the halo-like glow of her quirk. Someone who had probably heard way too much about her supposed limitless potential.

Momo smiled at Eri. “Please, do not put too much pressure on yourself. Even if my quirk never comes back. I think I’ll be okay.”

Leaning forward, Momo wrapped Eri in an embrace and stroked her hair. As Eri nuzzled against the spot on Momo’s left shoulder where a faint scar remained, Momo gently ran her fingers along the stub of Eri’s horn. And that’s when it dawned on Momo that she finally had an answer to the question Hatsume had asked her a while back. 

But do you like the person you are now? 

Momo couldn’t say that she loved who she was now – there was still that itching in her chest for Creation that she couldn’t chase away but she was at the very least at peace with where she was now.

Because quirk or no quirk, Momo could still do what mattered most. 

Create.