Stain finished the last bite of cake like it was a ritual.

Slow.

Deliberate.

Focused.

Then he set the fork down.

And looked up at me.

"...do you require assistance."

I raised an eyebrow.

"With what."

He tilted his head slightly—

—and pointed.

Directly.

At Kai Chisaki.

"...the pest."

Silence.

Oh.

Oh, this was about to be fun.

Because behind him, Overhaul went very, very still.

Again.

But this time?

It wasn't annoyance.

No.

That one hit his pride.

Hard.

I didn't even look at him.

"No."

Stain didn't move.

"...you are certain."

"Yes."

A pause.

"He is contaminating your space."

"I noticed."

Another pause.

"I can remove him."

I leaned against the counter.

Calm.

Unbothered.

"No."

Behind him, I could practically feel Overhaul's irritation spike.

Good.

He deserved it.

Stain watched me for a second longer.

Then nodded once.

"...as you wish."

And just like that—

Decision made.

Like Overhaul didn't even exist.

Which—

Honestly?

Was probably worse.

I crossed my arms slightly.

"He's a customer."

Stain's gaze flicked briefly toward Overhaul.

Then back to me.

"...temporary."

"Everyone is."

That earned me a small pause.

Not disagreement.

Just... acknowledgment.

Behind him—

"...I am still present," Overhaul said coldly.

We both ignored him.

Completely.

Stain leaned one elbow on the counter.

"You have been busy."

"Always am."

"I heard noise earlier."

"Chair incident."

"...ah."

That was all the explanation he needed.

Because he knew.

He had seen.

Once.

More than enough.

His gaze sharpened slightly.

"...you used the shovel again."

I shrugged.

"Didn't have to."

"Good."

A pause.

Then, almost thoughtfully—

"...last time was excessive."

I huffed quietly.

"He broke a table."

"He did."

"And then he kept talking."

"...he did."

Behind us—

Overhaul's patience was thinning rapidly.

"You are discussing acts of violence—"

Still ignored.

Completely.

Stain's eyes rested on me, calm and knowing.

"...you are improving."

"Thanks."

"...less immediate escalation."

"I try."

A beat.

Then—

"...though the spoon incident was... effective."

I snorted.

"Yeah, well."

"He shouldn't have talked."

"He shouldn't have."

We both nodded slightly.

Agreement reached.

Behind us—

"...what spoon incident," Overhaul demanded, voice sharp.

Silence.

We did not answer.

Because honestly?

He didn't need to know.

Stain's gaze flicked briefly toward him again.

Measured.

Judging.

"...he talks too much."

"I noticed."

"I can still—"

"No."

Another pause.

Stain exhaled slowly.

"...you are patient."

"I have to be."

"...it will run out."

I smiled faintly.

"Yeah."

Behind us—

Overhaul finally stepped forward.

Done being ignored.

"You will cease—"

I didn't even look at him.

"Finish cleaning."

Silence.

Immediate.

Heavy.

Stain watched that with clear interest.

Because he heard it too.

That shift.

That line.

And more importantly—

He knew what happened when someone crossed it.

His voice dropped slightly.

"...you should listen."

Overhaul's gaze snapped to him.

"...you presume—"

"You are in his space."

That shut him up for exactly half a second.

Stain's eyes narrowed slightly.

"...do not mistake silence for weakness."

I rolled my eyes.

"Okay, can we not do the whole dramatic speech thing in the morning."

Silence.

Then—

Stain actually huffed.

Overhaul looked... deeply unimpressed.

I grabbed the empty plate and turned away.

"...I just cleaned the place."

I glanced over my shoulder.

"Try not to ruin anything else."

A beat.

Then added flatly—

"Both of you."

Stain:

I paid.

He paid.

No words exchanged between us as we stepped out of the café.

The door closed behind us with a soft chime.

And just like that—

The air changed.

Cooler.

Sharper.

Real again.

I slipped my scarf back on, adjusting it carefully, ignoring the dried blood stiffening the fabric.

Beside me, Kai Chisaki stood still for a moment.

Silent.

Thinking.

Good.

He should be.

I started walking.

He followed.

"...you allowed that," he said after a moment.

Not a question.

A statement.

I glanced at him briefly.

"Yes."

A pause.

"...you permitted a civilian to speak to you in such a manner."

I let out a quiet breath.

"He is not a civilian."

That made him look at me.

Properly this time.

Assessing.

"...he a café owner."

"Yes."

"...explain."

I looked ahead.

The street was quiet.

Empty.

Safe enough.

"...you saw the shovel."

A pause.

"...that was not a bluff."

He said nothing.

So I continued.

"There was a man."

"A while ago."

"He came in drunk."

"Loud."

"Careless."

I could still see it.

Clear as day.

"He broke a table."

A small thing.

Replaceable.

Worthless.

But not to him.

"Izuku told him to stop."

"He didn't."

Another pause.

"He laughed."

That had been the mistake.

I glanced at Overhaul.

"He took out the shovel."

Silence.

"He didn't hesitate."

I let that sit for a second.

"...he broke the man's skull."

No dramatics.

No exaggeration.

Just fact.

Overhaul's steps slowed—just slightly.

Interesting.

"He lived... barely....," I added.

"Unfortunately."

A beat.

"...you are exaggerating."

I stopped walking.

Turned to look at him fully.

"No."

Silence.

Then I continued.

"There was another time."

"He used a spoon."

That made him frown.

"...a spoon."

"Yes."

"For coffee."

I tilted my head slightly.

"The man was talking."

"Too much."

"He insulted the place."

"Refused to pay."

A pause.

"...Izuku showed him his own words."

Overhaul's gaze sharpened.

"...what does that mean."

I held his gaze.

"He forced the spoon into his mouth."

Silence.

"Broke his teeth."

Another pause.

"...and took an eye."

The street felt quieter.

Heavier.

Because now—

Now he understood.

At least a little.

"That boy," I said calmly, "is not normal."

No response.

So I continued walking.

"He does not start fights."

"He does not escalate without reason."

"But—"

I glanced back at him.

"If you give him one?"

A small pause.

"He finishes it."

We walked in silence for a few seconds.

Then Overhaul spoke again.

"...he allowed you to call me a pest."

I huffed.

"He allowed it."

"Yes."

"...but you did not act."

"No."

"...why."

I stopped again.

Turned slightly toward him.

Because this part mattered.

"This café—"

I gestured back toward it.

"—is the only place where we are not villains."

A pause.

"Not targets."

"Not threats."

"Customers."

I let the word sit.

Heavy.

Important.

"He does not judge."

"He does not interfere."

"He does not care what you are."

Another pause.

"As long as you follow his rules."

Overhaul was silent.

Listening.

Good.

"You break them?"

I shrugged slightly.

"He reminds you."

Another step closer.

"And if you still don't listen?"

A small pause.

"He stops being patient."

Silence stretched.

Then—

"...there are others," I added.

His eyes flicked to me.

"Regulars."

Stronger.

Worse.

More unstable.

"You are not the most dangerous person who walks through that door."

That landed.

I could tell.

Because his expression shifted—

Just slightly.

"...who."

I almost smiled.

"You already saw some."

A pause.

"And others?"

I looked ahead again.

"...you will."

And when he did—

He would understand exactly why that café existed the way it did.

Why no one fought inside.

Why no one tested him twice.

And why—

Even someone like me—

Sat down.

Ate cake.

And left quietly.