Izuku from here on out unless said otherwise

I stared at the door long after it closed behind Todoroki Shoto.

Then I slowly turned my head and looked at Dabi.

Then at the room.

Then back at Dabi.

"...you did that on purpose."

Dabi looked deeply offended.

"Wow, kid. You wound me."

"You weaponized a hero student."

"I merely allowed events to unfold."

"You brought him here."

"Semantics."

I rubbed my temples.

Because yes.

Technically he wasn't wrong.

But also—

This was exactly the kind of chaos I had spent the last year carefully avoiding.

I sighed and leaned against the counter.

Across the room nothing had changed.

Which, honestly, was impressive.

Stain sat in the corner with the same intense focus he had when he first walked in two hours ago. The man had ordered one black coffee and had been silently sharpening knives ever since.

Twice was arguing with himself about whether muffins were morally acceptable dinner.

Mr. Compress politely read a newspaper like he was in a fancy afternoon tea lounge instead of a café full of criminals.

And Kurogiri...

Kurogiri raised his cup slightly toward me when he noticed me looking.

I nodded back.

See?

Peaceful.

Perfectly normal café environment.

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

"...I hate you."

Dabi grinned.

"Love you too."

Then he wandered out the door like the walking disaster he was.

The bell chimed again.

And suddenly the café was quiet.

Well.

As quiet as a room full of professional criminals could be.

I exhaled slowly and grabbed a cloth to wipe the counter.

My brain, however, decided this was the perfect moment to start replaying old memories.

Which was rude.

Because I knew exactly how this story started.

—

The café had never been meant for villains.

Originally, it was supposed to be normal.

Warm lighting.

Friendly atmosphere.

Students studying.

Couples on dates.

That kind of place.

My mom had bought the building years before she got sick.

She called it our future.

I remembered the day she signed the papers.

She had been smiling so brightly.

"Just imagine it, Izuku," she told me. "Your own café one day."

I was twelve.

I had believed her.

Then the illness came.

Slow.

Relentless.

And by the time I turned fifteen—

The café was all I had left of her.

So I opened it.

Because what else was I supposed to do?

Sell it?

Let strangers tear it down?

No.

Absolutely not.

This place mattered.

Even if the universe had decided to turn it into something... unconventional.

Because the first villain showed up two weeks after opening.

I still remember him.

A small-time criminal with blood on his jacket and a broken arm.

He walked in.

Looked around.

And asked for coffee.

I made him coffee.

He drank it.

Paid.

Left.

No problem.

Then another came.

Then another.

Apparently word spread fast when a quiet café existed in the perfect dead zone between several underground territories.

Neutral ground.

No police patrols.

No hero activity.

And most importantly—

No judgment.

Which was funny.

Because they had assumed that part.

I never promised it.

The real rule was much simpler.

No fighting.

Not a suggestion.

Not a request.

A rule.

The first time someone broke it...

Well.

I finished wiping the counter slowly.

Across the room Twice suddenly raised his voice.

"HEY! HEY! HE STOLE MY MUFFIN!"

"I DID NOT!"
"I ABSOLUTELY DID!"

I closed my eyes.

Slow inhale.

Slow exhale.

Patience.

So much patience.

I walked over calmly.

Mr. Compress looked up from his newspaper with the expression of a man watching theater.

Twice pointed dramatically at the guy sitting next to him.

"He took it!"

"I bought it!"

The accused villain held up a muffin defensively.

I stared at them.

Silence stretched.

Then I spoke.

Very calmly.

"Did anyone throw a punch?"

Both men froze.

"...no."

"Did anyone threaten violence?"

"...no?"

I nodded once.

"Good."

Then I turned around and walked back to the counter.

Problem solved.

Behind me Twice whispered loudly.

"...that was terrifying."

Mr. Compress hummed.

"The young proprietor is quite effective."

Of course I was.

Because they all knew the same thing.

The second rule of this café.

If someone started a fight...

I would end it.

And they would regret surviving long enough to remember it.

Not because of a quirk.

I didn't have one.

But patience had limits.

And when mine broke—

Even villains preferred death.

I glanced toward the door again where Todoroki had left earlier.

UA's rising star.

A hero student sitting in the most villain-infested café in the city.

Completely unaware.

I sighed.

"...this is going to become a problem."

Across the room Kurogiri calmly spoke.

"On the contrary."

I looked up.

He stirred his drink thoughtfully.

"This may become something very interesting."

I groaned and dropped my forehead onto the counter.

Wonderful.

Exactly what I needed.

More interesting.