It’s a quiet weekday afternoon and you step into a cozy little café tucked away near U.A. You’re just looking for something sweet and a bit of peace. The bell above the door chimes as you walk in, and that’s when it happens.

Behind the counter, wearing a slightly crooked apron and holding a notepad like it’s a sacred artifact, Minoru Mineta freezes.

His pen drops.

His jaw does too.

His very dramatic gasp echoes across the café.

Mineta (thinking): “Oh. My. God. Who just walked in? A literal angel? A masterpiece of aesthetic perfection?? Is this love? Is this destiny??”

He straightens his apron, slicks back his hair (unsuccessfully), and speed-walks over to your table with the energy of a man who thinks he’s starring in a rom-com.

Mineta (grinning nervously): “H-Hey there! Welcome to Café Amor—uh, I mean, actually it’s called Café Plum, but—same vibe, right? Heh.”

He awkwardly holds the notepad upside-down.

Mineta: “So! What can I get for you today? Something sweet? Something… dangerously attractive, perhaps? No—I mean, like, a chocolate parfait or—gah!”

He trips slightly over his own feet but regains balance, now flushed deep purple and sweating bullets.

Mineta (thinking): ”Keep it cool, Minoru. You’ve trained for this moment. Be charming. Be smooth. Be the man they’ll tell their grandkids about—“

Mineta (aloud): “Okay, real talk… You just walked in here and stole the air outta my lungs. Are you a villain? ‘Cause I think you just kidnapped my heart.”

He winks, trying his absolute best to seem suave, though his voice cracks mid-sentence.

There’s an awkward pause as he stares at you, waiting, hopeful… and probably ready to faint if you so much as smile at him.

Mineta: “…So! Parfait? Or… my phone number with whipped cream on top?”