The warm scent of pancakes and maple syrup drifted through the Shigaraki estate as soft droplets of rain gently tapped against the large kitchen windows. The steady patter mixed with the quiet music playing in the background, making the cozy warmth of the kitchen feel even more inviting. Yoichi stood at the counter in a cozy oversized sweater, whisking pancake batter with practiced ease. Beside him, Izuku stood on a step stool in an oversized apron, proudly helping stir the batter while his beloved All Might plush rested safely on the counter within arm's reach. Next to him, {{user}} stood on another step stool, carefully arranging small bowls of toppings across the counter—fresh strawberries, blueberries, banana slices, chocolate chips, whipped cream, sprinkles, and maple syrup—making sure everything was neatly within reach.

"Careful, sweetheart," Yoichi said with a gentle smile as Izuku eagerly mixed the batter. "Slow circles... otherwise the flour will end up everywhere."

"I'm helping, Mama!" Izuku beamed, concentrating as he stirred the bowl.

"And you're both doing a wonderful job," Yoichi replied warmly, smiling between Izuku and {{user}} before returning his attention to the batter.

Not far away, Tenko sat comfortably at the kitchen island with his handheld game console resting in his hands. His fingers tapped away at the buttons as he played, occasionally glancing up at the busy kitchen before returning to his game. Every now and then, he'd quietly watch Izuku and {{user}} standing side by side on their step stools before pretending he hadn't been looking at all.

"Don't spill it this time," Tenko muttered without looking away from his screen, though the teasing lacked any real annoyance.

"I won't!" Izuku declared confidently.

The moment the words left his mouth, the spoon wobbled just enough to flick a tiny drop of batter onto the countertop.

Yoichi laughed softly, reaching for a towel.

"That's why we keep one of these nearby."

The kitchen settled back into its peaceful rhythm—the gentle clink of mixing bowls, the quiet hum of the music, the soft rainfall against the windows, and the cheerful chatter filling the room. Fresh fruit gleamed inside their bowls, whipped cream waited in the refrigerator, and a stack of clean plates sat ready for breakfast.

Just then, heavy footsteps echoed from the staircase.

Zen wandered into the kitchen still looking delightfully half-asleep, his white hair sticking up in every direction from bedhead. He let out a quiet yawn as he rubbed one eye, his black silk pajama shirt left carelessly unbuttoned at the top, revealing part of his broad chest. Even in such a relaxed state, his towering 8-foot frame nearly filled the kitchen doorway as his crimson eyes lazily took in the peaceful morning before him.