Comfort Food

Disclaimer: All familiar characters, events, settings, etc. belong to Disney/Marvel.

A/N: I've really been wanting to write something light-hearted, but all I've been getting lately is a sad little Tadashi muse. Cheer-up, kiddo!

Hiro is three, and Tadashi is probably ten or eleven.

"I made macaroni - yum yum!" Aunt Cass announces, walking over with a saucepan. She spoons a pile of cheesy noodles onto Tadashi's plate, followed by applesauce and a scoop of steamed peas. Several of the peas roll towards his macaroni, and Tadashi uses his fork to nudge them back into the pile.

Next to him, Hiro stabs a bite of macaroni with his fork. Peas fall on the floor, and he gets applesauce on his sleeve before Aunt Cass can roll it up. "I yuv macawoni!" Hiro announces, shoving more into his mouth.

"Me too," Aunt Cass responds tiredly, making sure no more of Hiro's food flies off his plate. She looks over at Tadashi. "Aren't you hungry?" she asks.

He swallows a mouthful of peas with his milk and lets his spoon drop into the applesauce. "Not really," he answers. His appetite is gone.

Just like his mom and dad.

He opens his lunchbox on Monday and it's obvious Aunt Cass has packed it. Everything is in a plastic baggie: the jelly sandwich and the grapes and the potato chips. He fishes out the juice box, but it's not cold: Aunt Cass doesn't know the trick about freezing it and using it as an ice pack. He pokes it with the straw anyway and sucks down the warm apple juice.

On the bus, he feels inside the empty pocket inside the lunchbox where the ice pack is supposed to go. His mom's last note is still there. "I love you!" it says in her tidy little handwriting, with a happy face underneath. "Have a good day!"

That was the worst day.

They have macaroni again that night. He doesn't eat it, and he forgets to put a juice box in the freezer.

Aunt Cass tapes a note onto his sandwich the next week. It says, "This is tuna."

"I thought you liked macaroni," Aunt Cass sighs, resting her chin on her hand as Tadashi pushes his noodles in circles around his plate.

"I yike it!" Hiro is happy to tell them, but he frowns at Tadashi. "My macawoni is good. Do you want mine? Eat mine, 'Dashi!"

It's true - he likes macaroni. Or used to like it.

"No Hiro," Tadashi tells his little brother, shaking his head. "I don't like it anymore." He picks at it and finishes half.

Aunt Cass scrapes the rest into the garbage can. She sets the plate in the sink and pats his back a little. "Let me know if you get hungry later."

"Tuna again," says Aunt Cass's next note. "Good luck on your math test."

The juice box is cold this time.

"You like eggs, right?" Aunt Cass asks, setting Tadashi's plate in front of him. Scrambled eggs and more steamed vegetables.

Yeah, he likes eggs. "Is there rice?" he asks hopefully.

No, there's no rice, but Aunt Cass puts some in the cooker. Hiro can't wait for rice: he digs into his scrambled eggs with his little fork and Aunt Cass doesn't stop him. "I yuv eggs!" he informs them, smiling big. Tadashi can see bits of egg and vegetables between his baby teeth.

"No kidding," Aunt Cass says, raising her eyebrows at Hiro.

By the time the rice is done, Tadashi has to microwave his plate to heat everything up again. Aunt Cass watches as he squirts ketchup over all of it and mixes it together with his spoon.

He spoons up his makeshift dinner and tests it out.

It doesn't taste right.

There are two rice balls in his lunchbox instead of a sandwich. They're falling apart inside the plastic baggies and filling is smeared all over one.

"Still tuna, buddy," Aunt Cass has written. "P.S. I suck at making onigiri. Haha."

No kidding.

Aunt Cass places his plate in front of him once again. "I know it's not like your mom's," she says, taking a deep breath. "But I know she made it a lot."

Tadashi looks down at the omelet rice on his plate. The ketchup zig-zags across the egg, but he resists the temptation to wipe it off and make eyes and a smile instead.

"Thanks," he manages to say, and he feels Aunt Cass's hand squeeze his shoulder for a moment before she moves over to Hiro, who has abandoned his utensils in favor of eating his rice with his hands.

He uses his spoon to cut into the egg and the tomato-y fried rice spills out, still warm. It's hard to eat it at first, but he swallows it down. Aunt Cass is right - it's not like his mom's.

It still tastes good though.

He peels plastic wrap off the rice ball. It looks more like a triangle this time, and the filling isn't falling out.

"Tuna!" says the note. And, "I love you." With a happy face.