There wasn't anything in the world like cooking. The smells, the flavours, the process. Uniting separate components into a new and beautiful whole. So much of Makoto was destruction, but here, she created.
She loved her family beyond expression but learned too young the importance of trying. It was a recipe she could never master. Her ingredients were tender words and enveloping hugs and crackling lightning.
Alone these weren't enough, but through cooking she came close.
Usagi chewed and said that eating Mako's food was like being hugged from the inside.
Mako smiled, and made everyone take a second helping.