The bell above the door chimed again.

I glanced up automatically.

Just in time to see Dabi's coat disappear around the corner of the street outside.

Good.

One walking fire hazard gone.

Only... let's see...

I casually scanned the room.

One ideology-obsessed murderer.

One teleporting bartender.

One living identity crisis.

One dramatic magician.

And three miscellaneous criminals who looked like they collected knives as a hobby.

Normal.

Totally normal work environment for a sixteen-year-old.

I wiped the counter again and reached for a clean glass when—

The door opened.

Hard.

The bell clanged violently against the frame.

Ah.

Right on schedule.

Tomura Shigaraki stumbled in like the physical embodiment of a headache. Hoodie up, posture twitchy, scratching at his neck like the world personally offended him.

His red eyes scanned the room.

Then locked onto Kurogiri.

Across the café, Kurogiri calmly raised his cup.

Shigaraki marched straight toward him.

"You're HERE again?!"

His voice echoed across the café.

Nobody reacted.

Stain kept sharpening his knife.

Mr. Compress turned a page in his newspaper.

Twice whispered to himself.

"I think he's mad."
"No, really?"

Kurogiri folded his hands politely.

"You say that as though I do not work here."

"You're ALWAYS here," Shigaraki snapped.

"Yes."

"You're supposed to be helping me!"

"I am."

"You're drinking espresso!"

Kurogiri tilted his head.

"It is very good espresso."

Shigaraki made a strangled noise of pure frustration.

Then he scratched his neck aggressively for a few seconds before spinning around and stomping toward the counter.

Right.

My problem now.

He slammed his hands onto the counter.

"Frappuccino."

I didn't even look up from the machine.

"Chocolate or coffee base."

"...coffee."

"Whipped cream."

"Yes."

"Extra sugar."

"...yes."

I nodded and started making it.

Shigaraki leaned forward on the counter like a gremlin that hadn't slept in three days.

Which, honestly, was probably accurate.

"Life sucks," he muttered.

"Mm."

"My mentor is insane."

"Mm."

"He expects me to raid a school."

My hand paused mid-syrup pump.

"...a school."

"Yeah."

He scratched his neck again.

"Like that's a normal request."

I slowly finished pouring the coffee.

"...which school."

He waved his hand vaguely.

"Some hero academy or something."

Ah.

Fantastic.

I placed the cup under the blender.

"Did he provide a plan."

"No."

"Backup."

"No."

"Resources."

"No."

I hit the blender button.

The machine roared to life.

Shigaraki stared at the spinning drink with hollow eyes.

"He just said it would 'be good for my development.'"

The blender stopped.

I poured the drink into a cup.

"...that's not development."

"That's what I said!"

I added whipped cream.

Shigaraki continued ranting.

"Like what am I supposed to do? Walk in and say hello?? Destroy everything??"

I placed the drink in front of him.

He grabbed it immediately.

"Thanks."

"Straw."

He snatched the straw too.

Then he took a long sip.

Silence.

His shoulders lowered slightly.

"...okay that's good."

"Thank you."

He leaned against the counter and kept drinking.

"I mean seriously," he continued. "A school. Full of heroes. That's stupid."

Across the café, Kurogiri calmly spoke without looking up.

"You are speaking rather loudly."

"I DON'T CARE."

I rested my elbows on the counter.

"Why does he want you to attack a school."

Shigaraki groaned.

"Symbolism."

"...of course."

"Something about destroying hero society at its roots."

Naturally.

Very dramatic.

Very villain mentor behavior.

Shigaraki took another sip and glared into the drink like it personally offended him.

"I hate symbolism."

"Understandable."

He rubbed his face with one hand.

"I don't even know where to start."

"Research."

"Ugh."

"Planning."

"Gross."

"Strategy."

"Stop saying smart things."

I shrugged.

He slurped the drink again.

Then muttered into the cup.

"...I hate my life."

From the corner table, Stain spoke calmly without looking up.

"Your hatred lacks purpose."

Shigaraki immediately screamed back.

"SHUT UP."

Stain went back to sharpening his knife.

Twice whispered loudly.

"He seems stressed."
"He is definitely stressed."

Mr. Compress chuckled quietly.

I leaned on the counter, watching Shigaraki spiral.

Then I sighed.

"...you're doing it wrong."

Shigaraki looked up.

"...what."

I gestured to the café.

"Observe."

He blinked.

"...observe what."

"People."

His eyes narrowed.

"You're being cryptic."

I pointed around the room.

"Villains."

"Yes."

"Different personalities."

"...yes?"

"Different motivations."

"...okay?"

I folded my arms.

"If you're going to attack a hero school."

Shigaraki leaned closer.

"...yeah?"

"Step one."

Pause.

"Don't announce it loudly in a café full of criminals."

The entire room went quiet.

Shigaraki froze.

Then slowly turned his head.

Every villain in the café was now looking at him.

Twice waved.

Mr. Compress tipped his hat.

Stain stared silently.

Shigaraki turned back to me.

"...oh."

I nodded.

"Yeah."

Shigaraki slowly turned back toward me.

"...oh."

Yeah.

That about summarized it.

I leaned my elbows on the counter and gave him a look that my mother used to call the lecture face.

Which was unfair, because I wasn't lecturing.

I was preventing future stupidity.

Big difference.

Shigaraki took another sip of his frappuccino and hunched over the counter like a very angry gargoyle.

"...so what, you're saying I shouldn't have said that?"

I stared at him.

"...in a room full of villains?"

He scratched his neck.

"...fair."

Across the café, Twice leaned over to Mr. Compress.

"I think he's learning!"
"He might be learning."

Mr. Compress chuckled softly.

Shigaraki glared vaguely in their direction before turning back to me.

"...so what am I supposed to do then?"

Finally.

A productive question.

I crossed my arms.

"Well, for starters..."

I tapped the counter.

"You're approaching this backwards."

He frowned.

"How."

"You're thinking about the attack before you even understand the target."

Shigaraki blinked slowly.

"...explain."

I sighed.

Because apparently this was my life now.

Running a café and accidentally becoming a villain strategy consultant.

Great.

"Step one," I said calmly. "Information."

Shigaraki tilted his head slightly.

"Break in."

His eyes lit up a little.

"Now we're talking."

I raised a finger.

"Not to destroy anything."

His excitement died instantly.

"...boring."

"To observe."

He groaned.

"More observing."

"Yes."

I pointed toward the table where Stain sat.

"Even he observes."

Stain didn't look up, but he spoke calmly.

"Observation precedes judgment."

Shigaraki pointed at him aggressively.

"I did not ask for philosophical input!"

Stain continued sharpening his knife.

I continued talking.

"You break in after hours."

Shigaraki leaned forward.

"Okay."

"Find out the basics."

"Like what."

I started counting on my fingers.

"Teachers."

"Students."

"Security."

"Curriculum."

"...curriculum?"

"Yes."

"Why would I care what they study?"

"Because it tells you how they train."

He blinked.

"...oh."

I nodded.

"If you know how they train, you know their strengths."

He scratched his neck thoughtfully.

"...and weaknesses."

"Exactly."

Shigaraki stared at me like I had just unlocked a new level of villainy for him.

"...you think like a criminal."

I shrugged.

"I run a café full of them."

Fair exchange of skills.

He took another long sip of his drink.

"Okay but what about heroes showing up."

"Timing."

"...timing."

"Yes."

I leaned back slightly.

"You gather information first."

"Okay."

"Then you make a plan."

"...okay."

"Then you prepare."

"...okay."

"Then you attack."

Shigaraki blinked again.

"...that actually sounds less stupid than my mentor's version."

Across the café, Kurogiri politely cleared his throat.

"I believe your mentor intended a similar structure."

Shigaraki shouted back immediately.

"THEN HE SHOULD HAVE SAID THAT!"

Kurogiri returned to sipping his espresso.

I sighed quietly.

Then I leaned forward again and tapped the counter once.

"Also."

Shigaraki looked up.

"If you're going to discuss crimes."

"...yeah?"

"Don't be this loud."

He blinked.

I gestured around the café.

"My establishment has rules."

"...right."

"You can talk."

"...okay."

"You can plan."

"...good."

"You can rant about your horrible life."

"...great."

I leaned slightly closer.

"But."

My voice stayed calm.

Very calm.

"You do not shout criminal plans across my café."

The room went quiet again.

Shigaraki stared at me.

"...or what."

Ah.

There it was.

The curiosity.

The line everyone eventually tested.

I held his gaze.

Then I smiled politely.

"Or you will wish heroes had found you first."

Silence.

Even Twice stopped talking.

Shigaraki blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Then he slowly lifted his drink and took another sip.

"...noted."

Good.

Lesson learned.

I straightened and grabbed a cloth to wipe the counter again.

Behind him, Mr. Compress murmured to Twice.

"The young proprietor is quite terrifying."

Twice whispered back.

"He absolutely is."
"I respect it."

Shigaraki leaned on the counter for a moment longer.

Then he muttered into his drink.

"...I still hate my life."

I nodded sympathetically.

"Second refill is half price."

He sighed.

"...make it extra sugar."