They didn't answer right away.

That was new.

Usually, people had something—an argument, a lecture, a dramatic "this is wrong" speech ready to go. But now?

They just... looked at me.

Surprised.

Processing.

Trying to fit what I said into whatever rules they lived by—and failing.

Good.

I sighed softly, rolling my shoulder once before leaning back against the counter again.

"...you don't need to worry," I added, more casually now. "What happens in my café stays in my café."

That got a reaction.

Of course it did.

Hawks raised a brow.

"...that sounds like something I should absolutely be worried about."

"It's not."

"It really is."

"It's controlled."

"There it is again," he muttered.

I ignored him.

"Here," I continued, gesturing around lightly, "they're not villains."

A small pause.

"They're just people."

Mic shifted slightly.

"...with a very specific resume," he said.

"With quirks," I corrected.

Aizawa's gaze flicked to me.

"...and you don't see a problem with that."

I shrugged.

"...who doesn't have one?"

That made Mic snort.

"...okay, fair point."

Hawks huffed quietly.

"Not helping."

I tilted my head slightly.

"You walked in here. You ordered coffee. You sat down."

"Yes."

"And?"

"...and nothing happened."

"Exactly."

Silence again.

Not as heavy this time.

Just—

Settling.

Aizawa exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair.

"...this is a risk," he said.

"Yes."

"But..." he paused, glancing briefly at Hawks, then back at me, "it's... stable."

"For now," Hawks added.

"It always is."

Aizawa studied me for another second.

Then—

"...we'll check in," he said.

Mic blinked.

"We will?"

"Yes."

"...oh—okay—yeah, yeah, that makes sense," Mic nodded quickly. "Quality control. Coffee testing. Very important."

I huffed quietly.

"Call it whatever you want."

Aizawa's eyes didn't leave mine.

"...if something changes—"

"I handle it."

"If you can't—"

"I will."

A pause.

Then—

"...fine," he said.

That was it.

No threats.

No conditions.

Just—

Acceptance.

Careful.

Measured.

But real.

Mic smiled slightly, leaning back in his chair.

"...well," he said, lifting his cup, "I guess I've got a new favorite café."

"You're loud," I replied.

"Part of the charm."

"Debatable."

Hawks hadn't said anything for a bit.

Which, honestly, was more concerning than when he talked.

I glanced at him.

He was staring into his cup.

Thinking.

Of course he was.

"...you know," he said after a moment, voice quieter now, less teasing, "the commission would hate this."

"I figured."

"...they'd shut it down immediately."

"Probably."

Another pause.

Then he looked up at me.

Not sharp this time.

Not interrogating.

Just—

Honest.

"...what they don't know," he said slowly, "doesn't give them a reason to care."

I blinked once.

That was... not what I expected.

He shrugged slightly.

"...besides," he added, leaning back a bit, "I wouldn't mind a place where I can just be... me."

That—

That was different.

Mic looked at him.

"...you? Not on duty? I'd pay to see that."

"Shut up."

Aizawa didn't comment.

But he didn't disagree either.

I looked at Hawks for a second longer.

Then—

"...it counts," I said.

Simple.

Clear.

Final.

Because the rules didn't change.

Didn't bend.

Didn't care who you were outside those doors.

"If you walk in here," I added, "you're just a customer."

Hawks held my gaze.

Then—

A small smile.

"...dangerous philosophy."

"Effective one."

"There it is again."

"Drink your coffee."

He huffed quietly—but he did.

And just like that—

Heroes.

Villains.

Same room.

No fighting.

No chaos.

Just—

Coffee.

I watched them for a second.

All three of them.

Sitting there like they hadn't just walked into the most questionable situation of their careers and somehow decided to... stay.

"...yeah," I muttered under my breath. "You all need sugar."

Mic perked up immediately.

"I knew I liked this place—"

"I didn't ask," I cut in, already turning around.

I reached into the display, pulling out three plates without another word. The motion was automatic—familiar, practiced, grounding in a way nothing else today had been.

Cheesecake.

Simple.

Clean.

Safe.

I placed the slices down in front of them one by one, sliding each plate across the counter with just enough precision to not make it look like I cared.

"Eat," I said.

Hawks blinked at the plate in front of him.

"...I don't remember ordering this."

"You didn't."

"...and you're just giving it to us?"

"You need it."

Mic didn't hesitate.

Of course he didn't.

Fork in hand immediately.

"Don't mind if I do—!"

Aizawa looked at his slice for a second longer.

Suspicious.

Always suspicious.

"...what is it," he asked.

"Cheesecake."

"I can see that."

"Then why are you asking."

A pause.

"...fair."

I leaned back against the counter again, arms crossing loosely as I watched them.

"It's from yesterday," I added.

Mic froze mid-bite.

"...yesterday?"

"Yes."

"...you're really selling it."

"It's better that way."

Hawks raised a brow.

"...is that supposed to reassure us?"

"Yes."

"It's not."

I clicked my tongue.

"Do you want a chemistry breakdown or do you want to eat cake?"

"...cake," he admitted after a second.

"Good choice."

Mic finally took a bite—

—and immediately lit up.

"Oh wow—okay, nope, that's really good—"

"Obviously."

"This is yesterday's cake?!" he continued, already going in for another bite. "What kind of magic—"

"Not magic."

"Feels like magic."

Aizawa took a smaller bite.

More cautious.

More controlled.

Then paused.

Just slightly.

"...it's balanced," he said.

"Thank you."

Hawks followed after a moment, clearly more curious than he wanted to admit.

One bite.

Then—

A quiet hum.

"...okay," he muttered. "I see it."

"Of course you do."

He glanced at me.

"...you're good at this."

"I know."

Mic pointed his fork at me.

"Confidence. I respect it."

"It's not confidence. It's fact."

"Even better!"

I shook my head slightly, but didn't say anything else.

Because this?

This was fine.

This was normal.

People sitting.

Eating.

Talking.

No tension.

No weapons.

No blood—

Well.

Not currently.

I glanced briefly toward the side, where Stain had already gone back to his own plate like nothing had happened.

Good.

That meant everything was back where it should be.

"...see," I said after a moment, gesturing lightly around. "This is what I mean."

Hawks glanced up from his plate.

"...people eating cake?"

"Yes."

"In a room with a wanted criminal."

"Customer."

"...right."

I tilted my head slightly.

"Is anyone fighting?"

"No."

"Is anyone dying?"

"...no."

"Then it works."

He huffed quietly, but didn't argue.

Aizawa didn't either.

Mic just kept eating.

"...I'm taking some of this to go next time," he added between bites.

"You're paying."

"Worth it."

I rolled my eyes slightly, but there was no real bite behind it.