I had barely gotten through my last bite of cake—pure chocolate heaven—when I felt a familiar, annoying presence approaching.

Scratch that. Two familiar, annoying presences.

I sighed, already regretting my life choices.

And sure enough, when I turned my head, there they were—Shigaraki and Overhaul.

Standing in the middle of this very normal, very fancy café, looking like two escaped criminals who had no business being here.

Shigaraki had his usual "I hate everything" expression, arms crossed like he was personally offended by the existence of this café.

Overhaul, on the other hand, looked deeply uncomfortable—which was fair, considering he still refused to be in public without his gloves and was probably judging the entire place for its lack of sterilization.

I groaned. Loudly.

"What the hell are you two doing here?"

They both pointed at each other.

"Ask him."

I blinked. "Oh, great. You've even started talking in sync. How cute."

Shigaraki growled. "Listen, asshole. I don't wanna be here either."

Overhaul huffed. "Yet, here we are."

I squinted. "Okay, but why?"

Shigaraki scowled. "That freakin' cat sent us."

Overhaul nodded. "Indeed. I was in the middle of something important—"

"You were bleaching your gloves again," Shigaraki deadpanned.

"Important."

I just stared.

Then I looked at Shoto and Bakugo, who were both equally done with this conversation.

Shoto just took another sip of his drink, completely unfazed.

Bakugo, on the other hand, looked like he was one second away from detonating the whole damn table.

I sighed and turned back to the two walking disasters in front of me.

"So, let me get this straight. You two were minding your own business, when—poof—the cat just threw you here?"

Shigaraki grumbled. "That's what I just said, genius."

Overhaul crossed his arms. "Not exactly 'poof,' but essentially, yes."

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

"I swear to everything holy, I am gonna throw that furball into the goddamn sun."

"Wouldn't stop him," Shigaraki muttered.

"Doesn't mean I won't try."

Somehow—somehow—we all ended up sitting at the same table.

It was a miracle the café hadn't kicked us out yet.

Shoto and Bakugo had yet to say a single word.

Shigaraki had his arms crossed, glaring at nothing.

Overhaul was visibly disgusted by the state of the table, probably contemplating setting it on fire.

And me?

I was just tired.

Because why was this my life?

I sighed and leaned back in my chair. "So. Since we're all here, we might as well enjoy it."

Shigaraki scoffed. "Enjoy what? Sitting with a bunch of idiots in a fancy-ass café?"

I shrugged. "Yup."

Overhaul raised an eyebrow. "You're... oddly okay with this."

I smirked. "Buddy, at this point, nothing surprises me anymore."

Bakugo finally spoke up. "I still don't know why we let these two jackasses sit here."

"Same," Shoto said, sipping his drink.

Shigaraki scowled. "Tch. Like I wanna be here."

Overhaul sighed. "I second that."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, shut up and just eat the damn cake."

Somehow, someway, the chaos eventually settled.

Not that we were suddenly best friends or anything. But at the very least, no one had thrown a table yet.

Which, for us? Was progress.

And the weirdest part?

Shigaraki and Overhaul actually... stayed.

Sure, Shigaraki complained about everything and Overhaul nearly had a stroke watching Bakugo eat like a gremlin.

But they didn't leave.

And somehow, we were all just... sitting there. Talking. Existing.

Despite the initial chaos (which, let's be real, was just a normal Tuesday for me at this point), the atmosphere somehow turned... decent?

Like, sure—Shigaraki still looked like he wanted to disintegrate the walls, Overhaul was visibly disgusted by every surface he had to touch, and Bakugo's table manners were actively making Overhaul's eye twitch...

But we weren't actively trying to kill each other, so I was considering this a win.

After Shigaraki finally gave up on glaring at the existence of happy people, and Overhaul accepted that yes, tables in public spaces are not 100% sterile, we actually started talking.

Shoto, of course, was calm as ever, just sipping his drink like nothing was weird about this.

Bakugo had stopped threatening to explode people and was now eating his fourth slice of cake.

Shigaraki, after making several complaints, finally caved and grabbed a pastry.

And Overhaul—after staring at the plate like it personally offended him—gave in and ate it with a fork and knife like a psychopath.

But honestly? This was nice.

I mean, sure, we were a weird group to be casually sitting in a café like normal people, but at this point?

Nothing in my life was normal.

Somewhere between Bakugo and Shigaraki aggressively insulting each other, and Shoto casually mentioning how he could freeze both of them into silence, I realized something.

I was actually having fun.

No life-or-death battles. No villains. No magical nonsense.

Just... me and the weirdest squad in existence, sharing food and actually enjoying it.

I caught Shigaraki chewing on his pastry, clearly trying to act like he didn't like it.

Overhaul, despite his entire personality being against it, was still eating.

Bakugo, as expected, was fighting his food like it personally insulted him.

And Shoto? Calm. Smug. Unbothered.

I shook my head with a grin.

"Alright, so are we just gonna pretend this isn't the weirdest thing we've ever done?"

Shigaraki scowled. "Shut up."

Overhaul sighed. "Let me have one peaceful moment."

Bakugo scoffed. "Tch. You idiots are the weird ones, not me."

Shoto? He just blinked. "I think it's nice."

I chuckled. "Of course you do."

And somehow—somehow—the day continued like that.

We talked. We insulted each other. We maybe threatened each other once or twice (mostly Bakugo and Shigaraki, let's be real).

But we laughed, too.

Shigaraki actually smirked at one of my sarcastic comments.

Overhaul didn't leave.

Bakugo and Shoto—despite their usual chaotic energy—actually seemed to be having fun.