Happy New Year everyone! I'm back with a big chunky chapter! Hope you enjoy it!
CHAPTER 19: HOW THE UNIVERSE WORKS PT.2
"Another round for the young ladies?" the female bartender asked the two UA students sitting at the bar.
"Hell yeah," Mei answered after loudly stomping her empty beer mug. "Keep them coming, damnit." the pink-haired blurted out. Momo giggled, taking the last sip of her beer.
How had this passive-aggressive nemesis ended up drinking at the closest pub from UA? After clearing the air, all there was left was the impulse to drink the whole situation away.
"So," Mei said, once her mug was filled with sweet dark beer. "How are we to punish the little purple rascal? I'm thinking of suppository bombs, but I'm open for suggestions." Momo almost spat her drink.
"I'm pretty sure his karma will torture him."
Mei frowned. "Yeah, but can we do it too? It doesn't have to be one or the other." Momo wasn't sure when was the last time she had laughed so much. "In all honesty Momo, why didn't you ever try to reach out to me? This whole thing could've been solved years ago."
The freckled woman figured she had hit a sour subject since Momo's face seemed as if life had just been squeezed out of her eyes like a fresh lemon.
"That day I couldn't submit my costume request…well…", the raven-haired hero clenched her napkin. She remembered that fateful day her whole life started to collapse. "I don't wanna talk about it."
Mei stood there, staring in judgment. "You do know that the less you talk about it, the more power you give to the memory, right?" her words felt like a slap in the face for Momo. "C'mon! Look, I know we clearly are not best friends, but if there is something you learn when you work with pro heroes is confidentiality. I don't mean to pry but–" Mei explained. "I'd hate to design a costume only to keep an open wound in disguise. So tell your story," as exotic as her quirk made her eyes look, Momo could read the honesty in her gaze. "Plus, it's only fair since all drinks are on me." Her playful smile made Momo feel more at ease.
Just as two prison mates sharing their sorrows, Momo started to tell the whole thing as she remembered.
[Momo's Memory]
A cold breeze of air entered through the open picture window.
"Jaku, would you mind closing the window please?" her mother said without even looking at the maid.
Momo's leg slightly moved repeatedly with anticipation. This did not go unnoticed by her mother.
"For goodness sake, Momo," the older woman quietly yet strictly pointed out. "Stop that annoying tic on your leg. It is not lady-like to move without a purpose."
"I'm sorry mother," Momo answered, trying to hide her impatience. Both nervousness and excitement were fighting for dominance, and her stomach seemed to be their boxing ring. "When will they be here, daddy?" she asked the tall, lean man standing by the piano.
"Any minute now, sweetie." to Momo, he seemed as if he was trying to hide his uneasiness. "Don't get too anxious now, my wild berry." His tender words brought a gentle smile to her face.
"What if I don't like him?" This was the question that had her mind awake all night.
Her mother glanced at her and raised one judging eyebrow. "Then you try harder to do so."
A polite knocking on the ceiling-tall doors broke the tense moment. The butler walked into the living room and cleared his throat.
"Evening, the Itsusu family is here." and that being said, he held the door open as their guests walked in.
Mr. and Mrs. Itsusu exuded luxury. The husband was a slim, pale man dressed in an all-black suit, a dark grey tie as thin as him complimenting the outfit; the little hair he had was heavily pushed back with way too much gel, and his boney-structured face hid behind a pair of glasses.
The wife, on the other hand, was a big woman. She was American, with tanned skin and lilac eyes; her hair was dyed black and perfectly straightened as if trying to mimic Asian features. She wore, however, highly famous expensive jewelry, along with a pair of extravagant sneakers, as if trying to seem younger by wearing them.
The Yaoyorozu stood up to greet their guests. Momo made an effort not to laugh at her mother's face when the woman saw the other lady's sneakers.
"Tomo! Good friend, welcome to our humble home." Momo's father greeted the other man in the room.
"I don't think you can call this mansion of yours humble, Yao", Tomo Itsusu replied with weak chuckles. "This is my wife, Judy." Momo's father vowed with respect. Judy, however, shook his hand abruptly.
"Nice to finally meet you all." Judy greeted everyone with violent handshakes. "We always hear from Tomo's good friend from high school, Yao. How wonderful that we get to have dinner together at last!" her chubby fingers strangled everyone's hand.
"Mother, you'll leave everyone with a hand ache." someone said behind the big woman.
That is when they first laid eyes on each other.
"I'm terribly sorry. I'm afraid my mother is sometimes way too American for her own good." a dashing wide smile and a pair of mesmerizing lilac eyes focused on Momo. "Itsusu Tomokazu, nice to meet you." the young man vowed in front of Momo.
Momo remembered spending the whole dinner examining Tomokazu. His face had what seemed to be symmetric vitiligo, leaving a trail of white freckles around his tanned nose and temples. His ears were invaded too, as well as part of his neck. Alongside his chiseled features, the sight of him was almost too exquisite to look away.
"So," he had approached her in the gardens by the end of dinner. "I noticed you staring at the table." his plump lips drew a diabolic smile. Momo was caught off guard. "Either you find me terribly handsome or inevitably disgusting." he brushed one wild curl away from his face.
A weak laugh came out of her lips as she stared even more. He had wavy gray hair, with a very clean undercut. "I'm pretty sure you are used to people staring at you, Tomokazu.," she replied.
"I was just about to point out the same to you, Momo." He touched a white rose from the bush beside him with his right hand. A replica of the flower appeared on his left hand. He handed the rose to her. "You can call me Duplo, by the way."
[-]
"Alright," Mei spoke after listening to Momo. "So maybe you didn't get the costume you wanted that day—but hey! Seems to me you met one hell of a guy, right?"
Momo drank a big gulp of her beer, her memories just as bitter now as her drink.
"Right…" she replied, rolling her eyes.
"Silence…" he muttered to the rowdy classroom behind him. Oh, how he hated when the night shift teachers didn't erase the board, only wasting the little energy he had in the mornings for class. He was not about to take his hands out of his pockets, it was freezing inside as much as it was outside. What had started at night as copious rain had turned into a snow squall in the early morning. By the time he was heading to class, most streets and sidewalks had a slippery and thin ice layer.
With the use of his scarf, he started erasing the board, his hands well kept in the pockets of his long gray oxford coat. He then resigned to the fact that his hand would have to endure the cold one way or another as he took out the roster.
"Everyone here?" The faster roll-call was, the better. "Answer now or fail this class," he added as his students looked around to see who was missing.
"Some are missing," Todoroki replied. But he wasn't heard by his homeroom teacher, who seemed to focus on something outside the window.
"What the…?" Aizawa mumbled. The sight of Momo Yaoyorozu running for dear life inside the building, slipping on the icy floor, and falling on her back was something he was not expecting to witness that morning.
After a few minutes, she was standing on the door, agitated and soaking. "I'm sorry for the delay," she said, trying to grasp some air. "May I come in?" Everyone stared at her.
The man in front of the class took a good look at her. Her hair was down, she had grabbed her uniform, but was not wearing anything according to the more than obvious weather. At this pace, she would catch a cold. He nodded and acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
Momo walked inside towards the back of the room, her heart pounding hard against her chest.
Note to self: No more drinking with Mei on school nights. No more drinking with Mei, at all. That woman is a beast when it comes to drinking.
She sat at her place as the window drapes automatically started to close, leaving the classroom in almost complete darkness.
"We are watching this extract of a documentary on negotiating tactics with criminals when there are hostages involved. I want you to analyze the tactics and note if any of them are obsolete today. Also, in the end, there is a case where you need to deliver a paper on how you would lead the operation to rescue the hostages." her professor explained as he turned on the projector.
Once he clicked the play button, Momo tried to forget all about her chaotic morning and as usual, focus all her attention on the class. The shadow of professor Aizawa paced to the back of the room.
Her back muscles shivered in an effort to warm up her body; she could feel her soaked shirt sticking to her like a second skin layer. It would certainly be harder to concentrate when freezing, but there was nothing that could be done now.
This is what you get when you get drunk and have morning classes. Now you're hungover and late. Hungover, late, and freezing. Hungover, late, freezing, and stupid. Not to mention you made a total fool of yourself in front of everyone. Good thing no one saw you getting your ass kicked by an icy sidewalk out there. This day is pure hell and it's not even noon. Could today be anything worse?
Her thoughts were squashed down by something heavy on her back. Sudden waves of heat surrounded her body. The aroma of sandalwood and bedsheets embraced her completely. The young drenched woman jumped in quiet surprise, exhaling in pleasure afterward.
Mr. Aizawa took a few steps back and leaned on the wall as he was before without looking at her. No one seemed to notice his act of mercy.
After that, it became even harder for Momo to focus on the documentary.
"Very well," Aizawa started, walking again to the front of the class. "Let's discuss the obsolete tactics and the reason." a few students raised their hands.
"SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRY TO INTERRUPT!" the ear-piercing voice of Present Mic startled everyone. "I BRING BIG NEWS AS ALWAYS"
"Dammit Mic, won't I ever get to give a complete class without your announcements?" Aizawa grumbled, to which his friend's only answer was a sly smile.
"You very well know I save all announcements for your class schedules." the blond man replied in a normal voice. "I'll be quick I promise."
"I don't care about velocity as much as volume." was the answer of his grumpy old school friend.
"Just one question for everyone," Mic started. Everyone stood still in anticipation. "WHO'S READY FOR THIS YEAR'S TRAINING CAMP?"
I know it's been a while, in case you keep reading this story I'd love to hear your thoughts! Thank you again for passing by and keep tuned for more!