Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The title of 'Japan's Cinnamon Roll' was bestowed upon Midoriya Izuku against his will.

He discovered it when one of the university students who frequented the café accidentally left their phone on the counter.

The trending page had been open. There, sandwiched between discussions about hero rankings and celebrity scandals, was a picture of him handing a latte to an elderly woman.

The caption read, 'Japan's Cinnamon Roll strikes again'.

Midoriya quietly locked the phone and set it aside for its owner.

He chose not to investigate further. He valued his peace. Unfortunately, peace did not value him.

The next week, the café was the busiest it had ever been. Some customers genuinely wanted coffee. Others wanted to see the famous barista.

The staff had learned how to identify them quickly. They were usually whispering, holding their phones at suspicious angles, trying (and failing) to act natural.

Midoriya ignored them all with perfect professionalism. Every customer received the same smile, same greeting, same impeccable service and same polite distance.

Then came the day this image shattered.

Aoi had received a five.

He took it gracefully. Mostly.

He slumped into the nearest chair, somehow, against all odds, making the action seem elegant, and rested his forehead against the table.

"I've peaked."

"You can improve."

"Really?"

"I think your closing statement needs a little more work."

"...You're helping me improve my confessions."

"Yes."

"You still won't date me."

"No."

"But you're coaching me."

"I don't want you embarrassing yourself."

Several students sitting nearby began writing furiously.

One whispered, "This is historic."

Aoi sighed dramatically, then looked toward Midoriya.

"I have one question."

"What is it?"

"Can anything make you flustered?"

Midoriya blinked.

"I don't know."

"I've tried everything."

"I noticed."

"So the answer is no?"

"Probably."

With the conversation concluded, Midoriya went back to the counter to prepare the other orders.

At exactly eleven twenty-three, the bell above the door chimed.

Aoi looked up.

Someone familiar had entered. Tall and broad-shouldered, with blond hair and an unmistakable grin stretched across his face, Pro Hero Lemillion stood in the doorway in full costume, his cape folded neatly behind him. He had apparently stopped by between patrols.

The atmosphere changed instantly. Conversations halted. Half the café recognized him immediately. The other half recognized him a second later.

Mirio Togata waved cheerfully at the room.

"Morning!"

A chorus of startled greetings answered him.

Mirio walked to the counter.

Midoriya looked up, then... for the first time in months, Aoi witnessed something impossible...

The smile disappeared, not because he was unhappy, but because he was too surprised to remember it.

Midoriya's green eyes widened until they were nearly round. His face went completely blank, then bright red.

The tray in his hands slipped. Two cups of coffee tipped sideways.

Time seemed to slow.

The drinks never hit the ground. Mirio caught both cups before they had fallen more than a few centimeters.

"There we go," he placed them safely back on the tray.

The café collectively held its breath.

Midoriya remained frozen.

"I-"

Nothing emerged.

Mirio smiled kindly.

"Everything alright?"

That single question broke whatever restraint remained.

"OhmygodLemillionI'msuchahugefanIhavenotebooksfullofanalysisonyourquirkandcombatstyleandrescuestatisticsandyourPermeationactivationtimingandthewayyoucompensateforsensorydeprivationduringundergroundtraversaland-"

(Oh my god Lemillion! I'm such a huge fan! I have notebooks full of analysis on your quirk and combat style and rescue statistics and your Permeation activation timing and the way you compensate for sensory deprivation during underground traversal and-)

The sentence emerged in one incomprehensible breath.

Every single customer stared, including Aoi.

Midoriya immediately covered his own mouth.

"I-I mean-"

Words failed him again. He looked mortified.

"No need to be nervous." Mirio laughed softly.

"I've followed your career since U.A.!"

The mutter storm sparked off.

"I've read every public interview and every combat analysis available and your quirk mechanics are genuinely fascinating because technically your body phases through matter but your oxygen intake becomes impossible while intangible so you must have developed an incredible internal timing mechanism and I always wondered whether muscle memory or spatial prediction plays the larger role because-"

He finally stopped, mostly because he had run out of oxygen.

The café remained absolutely still.

Mirio blinked once. Then twice. His grin somehow became even wider.

"You've really thought about it."

Midoriya's entire face reached a shade of red Aoi had previously believed impossible.

"I've got notebooks."

"Plural?"

"...six."

One of the students at the nearest table whispered, "He's adorable."

Nobody disagreed.

Mirio rested one elbow on the counter.

"So what's your theory?"

That was a mistake.

Midoriya lit up. Actually lit up.

His embarrassment transformed into enthusiastic energy. His hands began moving. He gestured through invisible diagrams, referenced hero footage, cited dates, predicted trajectory calculations, explained hypothetical rescue scenarios and suggested improvements to support equipment.

He posed three questions so technically detailed that even Mirio had to stop and think before answering.

The conversation lasted twelve minutes. By the end of it, several engineering students had quietly opened note-taking apps.

Aoi watched the entire exchange with growing disbelief.

This... This was what flustered Midoriya?!

Not flowers, expensive gifts or heartfelt confessions. Not one of Japan's most attractive men publicly embarrassing himself for months.

No.

The key had apparently been existing as Pro Hero Lemillion.

Mirio eventually glanced at his watch.

"I should get going."

"O-Of course!"

"But first..." He looked around. "Do you have one of those notebooks?"

Midoriya's eyes practically sparkled. He produced a thick notebook from underneath the register. The cover had clearly been repaired multiple times and bore the words 'Lemillion Analysis #6' in neat kanji.

Mirio accepted it carefully. He signed the inside cover, then added a short message.

'To Midoriya Izuku. Thanks for always paying such close attention! Keep smiling!'

He handed it back.

Midoriya accepted the notebook as though receiving a sacred relic.

"Thank you!"

"No problem."

The hero offered one final wave before leaving.

The bell chimed.

The café remained perfectly silent.

Every customer, every employee, every spectator, every eye in the café slowly turned toward Aoi.

The idol sat motionless.

One student quietly patted his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

Aoi nodded weakly.

"...He got farther in ten minutes than I have in four months."

The student couldn't even disagree. He had witnessed it. So had the entire café.

For the first time since this absurd saga had begun, Midoriya Izuku had become visibly, undeniably, spectacularly flustered.

And all it had taken... was the Number One Hero saying hello.

Aoi, after several long seconds, quietly lifted his coffee, took one sip, set it down again, then looked at Midoriya.

"...I've been bringing you flowers for four months."

"You have," Midoriya nodded sheepishly.

"And then he walks in."

Aoi leaned back in his chair. He smiled. It was the smile of a man who had faced defeat.

"I never had a chance."

Across the room, one customer could be heard desperately trying not to laugh.

They failed.

Japan Hero Broadcasting @DailyHeroSightings
Barista shows emotional variance for first time after meeting Pro Hero Lemillion.

Trending Now @TrendingNow
Clip of Midoriya muttering about Permeation reaches 41 million views in six hours.

marry me kazehaya @AoiNation
Our idol wrote songs.
Bought flowers.
Performed live.
Rented rooftops.
Scored an 8/10.
Lemillion walked in and won instantly.

max slacker @cafecore
Can someone explain why Midoriya has six notebooks on Lemillion?

HeroNet News @HeroNewsDailyUnofficial
Public opinion has shifted once again.
The debate over whether Midoriya is oblivious has largely ended.
Most now agree he is fully aware of romantic advances.
He simply isn't interested.
However, another mystery has emerged:
How many notebooks does the green-haired barista own?

Trending Now @TrendingNow
Searches for:
'Midoriya Izuku'
'Permeation'
'Can coffee baristas become sidekicks'
'Where did he hide the notebook'
have all entered today's top ten.

too tired to exist @CoffeeWitness92
I looked over at Aoi after Lemillion left.
He looked like a Victorian widow.
I've never seen heartbreak that elegant.