AN: Hello there!
I love this particular AU to bits, so here you have Todoroki and Momo bonding over cakes (unbeknowst even to himself, Sato is the ebst wingman). I hope you enjoy!
Chapter 2: The Best Part of a Cake Is the Filling
The sound of the wind chimes echoes through the entire cafe, reaching Momo's ears even as she's tidying a table in one of the corners furthest away from the entrance door. She whips her head towards the sound and finds herself disappointed when it's not the half-red half-white haired boy that walks in. She doesn't even know why she expects him to come, or why the thought of his presence makes her feel as giddy as a child the night before Christmas.
Momo catches herself staring outside the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of his hardly usual features, and snaps back to attention, feeling ashamed of herself. Her job is to make everybody happy, and her absent-minded attitude could inconvenience some other customers. Besides, it's not like she has ever talked to him, save for their short discussion yesterday.
"Creati, Happiness Pudding at table 3!" Sato calls, interrupting the admonishing her conscience is giving her- one she fully deserves.
The vanilla pudding is decorated with a smiley face made of melted chocolate and Momo appreciates the way it complements the name of the desert perfectly. She makes a mental note of congratulating Sugarman on his work again as she leaves the girl to savour the vanilla sweetness, basking in the gentle feeling of receiving people's smiles.
Momo has created some sort of smile collection in a corner of her mind, and keeps gathering images of people letting happiness take over. Shouto's would be a rare item in her set. She shakes her head, trying to push away the thought of him.
When she's about to tap Sato's shoulder and transmit the girl's smile further, enriching his collection of praises for his sweets, she gets pushed by Ochako at the counter. "Your customer is here," she whispers conspiratorially, patting Momo's shoulder and pointing towards the counter.
Sure enough, the boy she has been waiting for ever since her shift started is waiting to have his order taken. She breathes in deeply, pulling herself together.
"The usual?" she asks and he nods without averting his gaze. Momo shudders as the intensity of his mismatched eyes pierces through her again, and she needs her conscience to scream at her before her hands lazily move towards the stacked grande cups.
She hasn't noticed it yesterday, way too preoccupied with his other dazzling features, but the man has a burn around his blue eye. Momo bites the inside of her lower lip to keep herself from thinking about the pain he must have gone through when he got that burn, focusing on the iron taste of the blood spilt in her mouth instead.
"Studying again?" she asks to distract herself, but he doesn't answer. When she gives him his change, Momo catches him staring at her name badge, but he quickly snaps out of it with a nod and heads to the corner where he constantly secludes himself.
Momo's lucky there are other customers in line, because it takes her mind of their exchange- or rather, the one-sided dialogue- which was unfulfilling. She feels like her expectations were betrayed- expectations she herself has built with no rational background, the sensible part of her whispers.
The way he stared at her badge also bugs her. Everybody in the shop has a nickname: Ochako is Uravity, Sato is Sugarman and she, she is Creati. She came up with the name when she was only six and it holds much importance to her. Back then, she claimed she wanted to be a "creator of happiness", hence the name. It marked the start of her smile collection- and it made her a part of A Cup of Magic.
"Still antisocial?" Ochako asks when Sato takes over the counter and Momo joins her at the sink. Momo didn't think her face is that easy to read, or maybe Ochako's that just good at telling what others feel, but she nods with a sigh either way. "Don't let it get to you," her friend says. "Some people are like that."
Antisocial people don't scrutinise you with a look irradiating sadness, Momo wants to tell her, but refrains from doing so. If she gave up that easily, she wouldn't be worthy of the name Creati, she reminds herself and straightens her back.
She's in the middle of placing dishes in the washer when an idea comes to her, and she asks, "Hey Sugarman, do we have any Chocolate Extravaganza left?"
"Yep, I made a whole cake this morning. It's in the fridge."
"Perfect," Momo mutters for herself and loads the dishwasher two times faster. She washes her hands thoroughly once she's done and entrusts Ochako to the counter and Sato to the mixer, diving into the kitchen to fish a piece of the house special- Sato's masterpiece as of yet, his chocolate cake.
With two layers and three different fillings, this cake is an explosion of taste and the best they have to offer. There's bourbon vanilla, ice cream and the perfect mix of caramel and dark chocolate, combined with candy flowers only Sato's hands can craft. The more she thinks about it, the more Momo feels inclined to cut herself a piece, too, but she swallows the drool and tells herself she's above Pavlov's dog.
Once she cuts a perfect piece and places it on a tidy plate, Momo lets a stream of syrop write Smile on top of the cake and admires it. Granted, her handwriting is not as neat as Sato's, nor is the note as sweet or witty, but she thinks her message comes across clearly.
She picks up three other orders on the way, masking her plan in an attempt not to creep Shouto out. Her conscience makes another good show of telling her Shouto doesn't sit on table 13 today and argues that she shouldn't just invade his privacy, but she counters it by paying for the Chocolate Extravaganza with her own pocket money and arguing it's all for the happiness of the customer.
As she delivers the other orders, her smile is distant and her brain is fuming with possible reactions of the boy and how to respond to them. He could be angry, or weirded out, or the worst, he could even stop coming to the shop. Momo mentally scolds herself at the thought- he isn't that kind of person. That kind of person doesn't think that believing is nice.
She gambles her hopes onto this attempt as she puts the plate on his table, a little more energetically than she intended. There is barely enough space between piles of papers with complicated schemes and undefinable formulas.
His head shots up at the sound and he glances at the cake, then gazes at her. His look is impassible today. "I didn't order this," he points out matter-of-factly.
"It's on the house," Momo tells him, opting for the voice that- she hopes- sounds the least weird.
"Is this table 13?" he asks and she smiles. He knows of the legend.
"It's not," she admits. "But you are a regular, and this is a token of our appreciation." Shouto squints at the cake, then his look falls back on Momo. She doesn't know what to make of his eyes, but she knows what not to make of them- anger or sadness are barely in sight. He is just… surprised.
"Sugarman tells me you never order cake, and this is the best we have." As soon as the words leave Momo's mouth, she wonders if it sounds stalkerish. She tries to redeem herself by adding, "And green tea is bitter without something sweet to go with it."
He seems to ponder the utility of the gift for a moment. When he picks up the spoon, Momo lets out a sigh she didn't know she held in. "Enjoy!" She says and turns on her heels, retreating behind the counter and relieving Ochako from the child who's still talking to her.
It's only an hour later that Momo gets back in Shouto's corner of the cafe to tidy up more tables as customers slowly leave, making place for new ones. She peeks at his plate and upon noticing that he ate almost everything, her heart warms up.
She's about to leave again when his low voice reaches her ears. "Uhm, it was good!" he blurts.
Momo spins on her heels in time to see his slightly awkward look and feels a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Only good?" she half teases him, half asks out of sheer curiosity.
"Well, actually, it was delicious," he admits and his shoulders relax, as if the honesty lifted a burden of him.
"I'm sure Sugarman will be more than delighted to hear that," she says, already picturing Sato's small yelp of excitement. No matter how many compliments he receives, he's still over the moon with every customer that enjoys his food.
"Is that how he earned his name?" Shouto asks again, surprising Momo. She didn't really expect him to continue the conversation, given his lack of answer earlier. Then again, a good cake is bound to make one more talkative, isn't it?
"Yes. That and the fact that he can't even hurt a bug." A giggle escapes her as she remembers Sato's reluctance to kill a spider he found in the locker one morning. In the end, Mina squished it mercilessly with her heel, and Sato had tears pricking at his eyes every day he walked in the locker for the whole week.
"And you?" he asks, pointing to her badge.
Momo is about to answer, but quickly decides against it. Saying you want to be a "creator of smiles" is a declaration worthy of praise for a six year old. The 21 years old just finds it embarrassing to say out loud. "That's personal," she mystically says instead.
Shouto looks at her with a deadpan face. From this expression, she feels like the conversation is over and attempts leaving when his voice stops her again. "Then what should I call you?"
She quirks an eyebrow at him. "Everybody around here calls me Creati." His nose wrinkles and he stares at her name badge again, as if his look could destroy it. Perhaps he doesn't like the store's nicknames- after all, he didn't like the Calm Blitz either.
"It feels unfair. You know my name," he shifts his look to the cup to make his point.
"Then call me Momo," she offers. Telling him her full name doesn't feel right, and she has a hunch that being the owners' daughter would dissolve any semblance of trust she may have just gained. Besides, she doesn't know his family name either.
"That works," he accepts. "Now we're even, Momo." He tastes her name on his mouth, its consistency and weight, and then he inspects her from head to toe to check if it matches. In the end, he nods, seemingly satisfied and utterly oblivious of the effect his fruity voice and unyielding stare have on Momo.
The way he said her voice has been etched in Momo's head all Wednesday long, repeating with the stubbornness of a broken disc. So when she arrives at work on Thursday, she finally regains part of her control. Knowing that she'll see him is awfully soothing for her mind and soul.
It's this state of calm she's autoinducing through deep breaths over the coffee recipient that Sato interrupts, making her jolt in surprise and choke on the powder.
"That kid said he liked it, Momo!" he shrieks and barely keeps himself from jumping.
Momo takes in a sharp breath, trying not to choke on her own saliva, too. "Who?" she asks in a hoarse voice.
"The half-and-half kid that comes here every day told me he liked the chocolate cake! He told me to 'keep going!'. He even asked me what would go with green tea!" Momo can barely contain a smile as Sato keeps ranting about it, but it's not only for him that she's happy. Knowing that Shouto has attempted conversation makes her feel proud, as if watching her own child accomplish a task all on his own.
"He's a good kid," Sato concludes, wiping away tears that haven't yet rolled down his cheeks with a finger.
"Speaking of the devil," Ochako chimes as she points towards the entrance door. Shouto is indeed walking towards the coffee shop, but stops on the way for a few moments. Momo's view is obstructed by the passersby. "You know, Momo, I think he was looking for you yesterday~" Ochako raises her eyebrows suggestively and smirks. Momo guesses her cheeks are as red as she feels them.
"You're just teasing," she says, surprised when a little part of herself wishes that wasn't the truth.
"Not at all," Ochako counters. Maybe that little part was bigger than Momo thought. "He was stealing glances through the shop and looking lonely."
Momo doubts he looked lonelier than usual, given his unreadable stoic expression, but the thought that her presence was missed makes her warm and fuzzy anyway.
She doesn't have time to worm more information out of Ochako though, because the windchimes ring again and Shouto takes his place in line. Momo feels like all the people in front of him are stalling for time, indecisive or forgetful as they check all their pockets for the money, then their purse, then they remember they had another pocket on the inside of their jacket and finally they realise they can pay with credit card.
When Shouto finally gets in front of her, Momo's cheeks hurt with the constant smile she's been raising.
"Hello," she says again and feels her shoulders slump in relief as his eyes met hers. This time, he isn't piercing through her anymore, instead going for a contemplative look that's just as, if not more, shiver-causing as his piercing gaze.
Momo forces her eyes to look away and fills in the usual order when Shouto asks, "So you don't have shifts everyday?"
It's a good thing she had already written his name, because the jolt of surprise makes the tick go beyond its destined box's frame. "No. I don't work on Wednesdays and weekends," she informs him.
"Oh," is all he says in return and Momo feels that sharp pang of disappointment again. What did she expect him to say?
"Sugarman really is Sugarman," he tells nobody in particular, his gaze fixed on the cakes on display, but Momo can tell he wants her to hear it. She peeks at him, stealthy eyes hidden by her bangs, his look is so serious it makes it impossible to imprison the chuckle. He gives her a questioning look.
"So you understand," she says once she clears her throat.
"Yes." There's a pause while Momo types the receipt. "What's your favorite cake?" Shouto asks again, before she prints the the paper.
"Well I really like the Chocolate Extravaganza, but I think my favourite is High-class Vanilla." Shouto's look is nothing but quizzical, and Momo finds the way he doesn't squint, nor frown and yet ask the question with his mismatched eyes absolutely fascinating. "It's a cake based on a vanilla mix with chocolate bits scattered through."
He seems to ponder that information, like he does with everything she tells him. Eventually, he decides, "I'd like to taste it."
With a wide smile, Momo adds it to his order and recalculates the change. "I'll bring it to your table," she assures him, glancing suggestively at the queue that has doubled in length behind him. Have they chatted for that long?
He follows her look and nods. "I'll wait," he says it like a promise and leaves, letting the next customer- the sleepy guy again- ask for the strongest coffee in the store. He's just as unsociable as Shouto- but at least his injected eyes give him an excuse.
Time passes quicker once Shouto's in the cafe, his presence enough to put Momo at ease and restore the charm of the shop, or even enhance it. Perhaps he became an integral part of the magic in the shop, Momo ponders, or maybe she's just overthinking this again.
"This is it," Momo says as she puts down the cake. "I don't know if it'll suit your taste but- well I think it's fantastic. Then again, everything Sato makes is."
She's about to return to her tasks, but something in Shouto's look pinpoints her. She isn't sure if she's right in her interpretation, but does he want her to… stay?
He says nothing as she stands there, instead gently diving the spoon into the soft filling of the cake, then forcing it to cut through the crunchy base. He closes his eyes as he munches on the piece, and Momo notices his jawline relaxing and his bites becoming less aggressive, allowing him to delight himself in the explosion of taste.
Even after he swallows, he still keeps his eyes closed for a moment and Momo can swear she hears him purr. "You have good taste," is all he says when his eyes split open, before he dives in once again.
Each bite gives fuels his enthusiasm- a feeling Momo wasn't sure he was capable of displaying- and she watches him devour half the cake before he spares her another look. "You know, you can sit down. It feels awkward if you just stand," he points to the plushy chair in front of him.
Despite knowing that work waits for her, Momo complies without complaining, and tries memorising every aspect of his eating face. Perhaps this is the happiest she has seen him yet, as his eyes fill with the joy of trying something tasty, but also with the spark of discovering something new. It's a pleasure to see him so relaxed, all the sadness and envy of their first meeting melting under the vanilla taste.
He stops with his spoon halfway towards his mouth and puts it back down all of a sudden, to Momo's surprise. "I'm sorry," he says, starting her. "I should have realised that this was your favourite dish and I just ate without inviting you so-"
"No, no, it's fine," Momo brushes off his concern, trying not to laugh. She never expected him to be worried about that, but that's just proof of the mystery Shouto is, and also a clue to help her crack him: he's kind.
"But really, this is amazing!" he says and his eyes lit up as they meet hers, his blue one clear as the summer sky and his dark one melted by his excitement. Even his fruity voice is higher than usual, which is still low, but it's also very pleasing to Momo's ears. "The consistency is perfect, not too thin, yet neither too thick, and the chocolate chips are evenly distributed." He marvels at the fine work that went into it and Momo reminds herself he only just became acquainted with Sato's work.
"And the base layer is crunchy, which makes it perfectly complement the cream, right?" she joins him in praising their cook.
"Yes! But still, the filling is the best part of a cake," he concludes in all seriousness. Shortly thereafter, he follows with a sigh. "You're getting me addicted to this stuff!" he accuses Momo, though there is a hint of a joke in his voice.
"I won't apologise for that," she says in return. "This is actually me doing you a service. You would have lived your life without knowing how heaven tastes," she points out.
"Then would you say that me meeting you is magic?" he asks and his gaze morfes into that piercing look again, the one that Momo can't avoid and knows will draw the truth out of her.
"Maybe?" It comes out like a question. "I think that's something you should decide for yourself."
"There isn't enough data to draw a conclusion." He talks like a scientist- Momo can find a common point there.
"Then you should gather more. You just found out my favourite dessert today, and I found out you like the filling more than the layers. Let's keep at it."
He doesn't take as long as usual to ponder this suggestion. "Sure," he says in response and gives off the smallest of smiles. His lips barely crook, but he's definitely smiling, because there's a sparkle dancing in his eyes and the skin creases near their corners.
Momo was right- this was precious. She engraves the moment in her mind, carving it into her memory with every fiber of her being, and it leaves her grinning as an idiot in return.
"What was that?" Ochako asks when Momo storms back with more energy than before and proceeds to fix three cups of tea at the same time.
"He just told me how much he loves the cake filling," Momo smiles knowingly.