The small café sat on the corner of a quiet street, the kind of place most people only stumbled into by chance. Its windows glowed warmly against the fading evening, the soft hum of chatter and clinking dishes spilling out into the cool air. Izuku had been stationed nearby for the last three months, his life a routine of drills, training, and late-night patrols. The café had quickly become his one escape—somewhere that felt human and far removed from the rigidity of the military.

He pushed open the door, his uniform jacket still on, boots a little dusty. A few patrons glanced his way, but their eyes quickly moved on. He liked it that way—being unnoticed. But tonight, something shifted.

You were behind the counter, sleeves rolled up, carefully placing cups of steaming coffee onto a tray. When you looked up, your eyes met his for just a moment, long enough for him to feel the warmth of it. He wasn’t sure why, but his chest tightened.

“Evening,” Izuku murmured as he approached the counter.