boy saviour / katsuki & momo

V / helpless

part five !
word count: 1090

———

Bakugou grumbled under his breath as he trudged along behind his mother, Mitsuki Bakugou, through the bustling streets of downtown. He had been dragged to her modeling business once again, much to his annoyance. Mitsuki was one of the most renowned fashion designers in the city, and her modeling studio was always a hive of activity.

As they arrived at the studio, Bakugou could feel his irritation mounting. He had no interest in modeling, and he certainly didn't want to spend his day surrounded by a bunch of pretentious models and their endless primping and posing.

Mitsuki, on the other hand, was in her element. With a commanding presence and an eye for detail, she quickly set to work, barking orders at her team of assistants and models with practiced ease.

"Katsuki, dear, just wait here for me," Mitsuki said, gesturing towards a row of chairs along the wall. "I won't be long. I just need to help the models with their costumes."

Bakugou rolled his eyes but reluctantly took a seat, resigned to his fate. He crossed his arms over his chest and scowled as he watched the flurry of activity around him. The studio was a whirlwind of fabric and fittings, with models flitting about in various stages of undress as they were primped and preened by Mitsuki's team.

As he waited impatiently, Bakugou couldn't help but feel out of place in the glamorous surroundings. He was more at home on the battlefield than in a fashion studio, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was wasting his time here.

But despite his grumbling, Bakugou knew better than to argue with his mother. Mitsuki was a force to be reckoned with, and he had learned long ago that it was easier to go along with her plans than to try and fight against them.

Bakugou's attention was drawn away from the chaos of the studio as he spotted Momo standing nearby, engaged in a tense conversation with her mother. His sharp eyes narrowed as he observed the exchange, catching snippets of Mrs. Yaoyorozu's harsh words.

"You'll never be a hero," Mrs. Yaoyorozu was saying, her voice laced with disdain. "Girls are too weak to defend civilians. They belong in the kitchen, not out there risking their lives. Your dreams are just that. Silly little dreams, that'll never come true."

Bakugou's jaw clenched at the sound of such outdated and discriminatory beliefs. He had always known Mrs. Yaoyorozu to be a formidable woman, but he had never realized just how entrenched her views on gender roles were.

As he watched Momo's shoulders slump under the weight of her mother's words, Bakugou felt a surge of anger building inside him. He had never been one to stand idly by in the face of injustice, and he wasn't about to start now.

Pushing himself to his feet, Bakugou strode purposefully across the studio, his gaze locked on Momo and her mother. He could feel the intensity of his glare as he approached, his presence commanding attention even in the midst of the bustling studio.

As Momo's tears teetered on the edge of falling, Bakugou smoothly welcomed himself into the conversation, his presence like a sudden bolt of lightning in the tense atmosphere.

"Hey, Yaoyorozu," he said, addressing Momo directly and pointedly ignoring her mother's disapproving glare. "Did you see that idiot Denki during training yesterday? He didn't stand a chance against your badass techniques."

Momo blinked in surprise at Bakugou's unexpected comment, momentarily thrown off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. But as his words sank in, a flicker of warmth spread through her, chasing away the chill of her mother's harsh criticism.

"Thank you, Bakugou," she said, her voice soft but genuine. "That means a lot."

Bakugou nodded, a faint hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Damn right it does," he said, his tone brimming with confidence. "You're one of the strongest people I know, Yaoyorozu. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Momo felt a surge of gratitude wash over her at Bakugou's unwavering support. Despite his rough exterior, she could tell that he genuinely believed in her abilities and wasn't afraid to stand up for her, even in the face of her mother's disapproval.

As Mrs. Yaoyorozu looked on with thinly veiled disdain, Momo couldn't help but feel a newfound sense of determination welling up inside her.

Mrs. Yaoyorozu stood there, visibly taken aback by Bakugou's unexpected defense of her daughter, and a tense silence settled over the trio. Sensing the tension, Momo's mother cast a lingering glance at Bakugou before finally turning on her heel and making her exit, leaving the two teens alone in the studio.

The moment the door closed behind her, Momo let out a shaky breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Her eyes met Bakugou's, gratitude shining in their depths, and without a word, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug.

Bakugou stiffened at the unexpected gesture, caught off guard by the sudden intimacy. But as he felt Momo's arms around him, he couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth spread through him, melting away the tension that had been building between them.

For a moment, they simply stood there, locked in a silent embrace, each drawing strength from the other's presence. And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, Momo pulled away, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush.

"Thank you, Bakugou," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. And with that, she turned and hurried out of the studio, leaving Bakugou standing there, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched her go.

As he stood alone in the empty studio, Bakugou couldn't help but feel a sense of confusion swirling inside him. He had never been one for displays of affection, and yet, in that moment, he had found himself strangely reluctant to let Momo go.

Bakugou snapped out of his reverie as Mitsuki's voice cut through the silence of the studio. He turned to find his mother striding back into the room, her sharp eyes assessing him with a mix of amusement and exasperation.

"What are you doing, standing there looking like a lost duckling?" she chided, her tone laced with playful sarcasm. "Make yourself useful, and help this poor girl with her makeup."

With a pointed look, Mitsuki guided Bakugou towards a brown-haired girl who was sitting patiently in front of a mirror, a hint of nervousness evident in her expression.