I regret saying "one at a time" immediately.

Not because it didn't work.

Oh no—it worked too well.

Now they're all looking at each other like they're in some kind of formal introduction ceremony, and I can practically see the invisible line forming as they try to decide who goes first.

...This is going to be fun.

I tap my pen against the notepad, barely holding back a smile.

"Alright," I say, dragging the word out just a little. "Don't overthink it. I'm just taking orders, not your life stories."

"That sounds like something someone who wants our life stories would say," one of them mutters.

I glance up.

Blond. Slightly slouched posture. Crackling energy.

Ah.

This one's trouble.

"I can assure you," I deadpan, "I do not have the emotional capacity for six life stories at once."

That gets a laugh.

Good.

Tension gone.

Perfect.

"Okay, okay—I'll go first!" a cheerful voice cuts in.

I shift my attention to her.

Round face, bright eyes, an energy that feels... warm. Like sunshine in human form.

She leans forward slightly, smiling.

"I'm Uraraka! And I'll take the cheesecake—and uh—something to drink? What do you recommend?"

I scribble quickly.

"Nice to meet you, Uraraka," I say, glancing up briefly. "And depends—sweet, bitter, or something in between?"

"Sweet!"

"Got it."

I jot it down, already moving on.

"Next."

A pair of glasses glints in the light as someone straightens up way too formally.

"I am Iida Tenya," he announces, posture so rigid I'm half-convinced he's about to salute me. "Class representative of Class 1-A at U.A. High School—"

Oh.

Oh, this one.

I press my lips together, fighting the urge to laugh.

"—and I would like to order—"

"Coffee. Black," I cut in smoothly, not even looking at my notepad.

He pauses.

"...Yes."

I glance up, meeting his wide-eyed stare with a small grin.

"Lucky guess."

(It wasn't.)

He adjusts his glasses.

"...Impressive."

I snort softly.

Sure.

Let's go with that.

"Next."

A guy with tape on his elbows—tape—leans back casually in his chair.

"I'm Sero," he says easily. "I'll just take whatever she's having."

He jerks a thumb toward Uraraka.

"Easy enough," I reply, jotting it down. "Low-maintenance. I like it."

"Hey, I can be complicated if I want to be."

"Please don't."

That earns another laugh.

Nice.

The next one practically bounces in her seat before I even look at her.

Pink hair. Bright grin. Energy levels through the roof.

"I'm Mina!" she chirps. "And I want cheesecake too—but like, extra sweet if that's possible—and something fizzy!"

I pause mid-writing.

"...You want something sweeter than cheesecake."

"Yep!"

I stare at her for a second.

Then I nod slowly.

"...I respect the dedication."

"I knew you would."

Of course she did.

"Alright," I say, moving on. "Next."

Blond.

Electric.

The same one from earlier.

He leans forward, flashing a grin that screams bad decisions.

"Denki. And I'll take whatever has the most sugar."

I don't even hesitate.

"No."

He blinks.

"...No?"

"No."

"Why not?!"

"Because I'm not responsible for whatever happens after that."

"That's cowardly."

"That's smart."

A beat.

Then—

"...Okay, fair."

I smirk slightly, writing something down anyway.

"I'll give you something manageable."

"Boo."

"You'll survive."

"Debatable."

I shake my head, already moving on.

"Last one."

A redhead practically lights up when I look at him.

"I'm Kirishima!" he says, voice full of energy. "And honestly? Surprise me."

I pause.

"...That's a lot of trust."

He grins.

"You seem like you know what you're doing."

I huff out a quiet laugh.

"Debatable."

But still—

I write something down.

"Alright," I say, tapping the pen against the notepad. "That's everyone."

Then I glance at Shoto.

He hasn't said anything.

Hasn't ordered.

Just watching.

I raise a brow.

"...And you?"

A small pause.

Then—

"The usual."

Of course.

I nod, jotting it down without question.

"Got it."

And just like that—

Done.

I tuck the notepad away, turning toward the counter.

But before I can walk off—

"Wait," Uraraka calls.

I glance back.

"Yeah?"

She tilts her head slightly, smiling.

"...You remembered all our names really fast."

Ah.

There it is.

I shrug lightly.

"I try."

Denki squints at me.

"That's not normal."

"Neither is this café."

"...Fair point."

I grin, turning fully this time.

"Give me a few minutes."

And then I walk away.

But as I start preparing their orders—moving through the motions, grabbing plates, pouring drinks, slicing cake—I can still hear them.

Talking.

Laughing.

Teasing each other.

And in the middle of it all—

Shoto.

Not silent.

Not distant.

Just... there.

"...Yeah," I mumble to myself, setting the plates down on a tray.

Then my grin turns a little sharper.

"...Dabi is never going to hear the end of this."

I roll my shoulders once, exhaling slowly as I step fully into the rhythm of the kitchen.

This part?

This is my favorite.

No overthinking. No weird moral gray zones. No heroes asking questions or villains making snide comments.

Just... creating something.

I wash my hands out of habit—even though I already did ten minutes ago—then grab a clean cloth and wipe down the counter in one smooth motion. Everything has its place. Everything needs its place.

Order matters.

I start with the cheesecake.

Always the cheesecake.

I open the display case, the faint chill brushing against my skin as I slide one of the plates out. The cake itself is smooth, pale, perfect—just a slight golden tint along the edges where it baked just right.

Yesterday's batch.

Which means it's better today.

I set it down carefully, picking up a long, thin knife. One clean cut. Then another.

No hesitation.

The slices come out even—clean edges, no crumbling.

Perfect.

"Okay..." I mumble under my breath, already lining up plates. "Six slices."

I slide each piece onto its own plate, adjusting them slightly so they sit just right.

Presentation matters.

Not too centered—too stiff.

Not too off—too messy.

Balanced.

Then—

Uraraka.

Sweet.

I reach for the strawberry glaze I made this morning, spooning just enough over her slice so it drips slightly down the side without drowning it. A few fresh berries on top, placed carefully.

Bright.

Soft.

Happy.

"Yeah... that fits," I murmur.

Next—

Sero.

Same as Uraraka.

Easy.

I slide his plate next to hers, identical except for the angle of the berries.

He said he'd have the same—so he gets the same.

Simple.

Then—

Mina.

I pause.

"...Extra sweet, huh."

I glance at the counter, scanning options.

Then I grin.

"Alright. Let's see how far we can push this."

I grab the whipped cream, adding a generous swirl on top of her cheesecake—light, fluffy, a lot. Then a drizzle of caramel.

Then chocolate.

Then—

"...Okay, that might be illegal."

I tilt my head, inspecting it.

Nope.

Perfect.

Over-the-top.

Just like her.

I slide it onto the tray.

Next—

Denki.

I narrow my eyes slightly.

"Manageable," I remind myself.

No chaos.

No sugar explosion.

I take a standard slice, then add a light dusting of powdered sugar and a small drizzle of honey.

Sweet.

But controlled.

I nod to myself.

"He'll live."

Probably.

Then—

Kirishima.

I pause again.

"...Surprise me, huh."

I tap my finger lightly against the counter, thinking.

Then I shrug.

"Alright."

I grab a slice and add something simple—but solid.

A bit of dark chocolate on the side. Not overwhelming. Not flashy.

Just... good.

Reliable.

Strong.

"...Yeah," I say quietly. "That works."

Finally—

Iida.

I don't even hesitate.

Plain.

No toppings.

No extras.

Clean.

Straightforward.

I place it on the plate with precise alignment, adjusting it slightly until it sits perfectly centered.

There.

Done.

Now—

Drinks.

I move quickly, grabbing cups and lining them up in the same order.

Uraraka first.

Sweet.

I pour a fruit-based drink—light, slightly fizzy—adding a slice of orange to the rim. Something refreshing. Something that matches her energy.

Sero gets the same.

Again—

Easy.

Mina?

I don't even think twice.

Full sugar soda.

Extra fizz.

I crack it open and pour carefully, watching the bubbles rise.

"Good luck," I mutter.

Denki—

I hesitate.

Then I sigh.

"...Fine."

I pour him something sweet—but not too sweet. Balanced. Controlled.

I am not dealing with a sugar crash in my café.

Kirishima—

Something simple.

Cold brew.

Strong.

Reliable.

And Iida—

Coffee.

Black.

Of course.

I line everything up on the tray, stepping back for a second to look at it all.

Six plates.

Six drinks.

Each one just a little different.

Each one... fitting.

My lips curl into a small, satisfied smile.

"...Nice."

I grab the tray, balancing it easily in my hands.

The weight is familiar.

Comforting.

And as I step out from behind the counter, the noise of the café drifts back in—laughter, voices, movement.

Life.

I make my way over to their table, setting everything down one by one.

"Alright," I say lightly. "Let's see how I did."

Uraraka lights up immediately.

"Oh my gosh, that looks amazing—!"

Mina practically vibrates.

"WAIT THAT ONE'S MINE, I CAN TELL—"

Denki leans forward, eyeing his drink suspiciously.

"...You held back, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Rude."

"Smart."

Kirishima grins.

"Dude, this looks great!"

Iida adjusts his glasses, inspecting his plate like it's some kind of formal test.

"...This is very precise."

"Thank you."

Sero just shrugs, already digging in.

"Hey, I'm not complaining."

And Shoto—

I place his in front of him last.

"The usual."

He nods slightly.

"...Thank you."

Simple.

Quiet.

But—

Enough.

I step back, watching them for a second as they start eating, talking over each other again, energy filling the space.

And yeah.

There it is again.

That feeling.

That quiet, steady warmth settling in my chest.

I turn away before it lingers too long, heading back to the counter.

Still work to do.

Always.