Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The chaos at the USJ was in full swing. Smoke curled through the shattered windows, alarms screamed, and explosions thundered in the distance. Heroes shouted orders. Students ran for cover. The Nomu roared like some nightmare beast straight out of a horror flick.

And in the middle of it all, Tomura Shigaraki stood slouched like he’d just been forced out of bed for a group project he didn’t sign up for. Dust clung to his tattered hoodie, his hand twitched against his neck, and his bloodshot eyes scanned the room with the energy of a sleep-deprived gamer who hadn't logged off in three days.

He was supposed to be giving a dramatic monologue. Something about the fall of hero society, the hypocrisy of the world, the righteous rise of the League of Villains. Something edgy. Something terrifying.

But really?

All he wanted was a nap. And maybe to cuddle with his cat, Mr. Whiskers. Was that really too much to ask? A warm blanket, a silent room, some calming YouTube videos of cats knocking things off tables—peace. That’s all he craved.

“I am the leader of the League of Villains!” he declared, throwing his arms out like he was presenting the grand finale of a stage show. His voice cracked halfway through the sentence and came out more annoyed than threatening. “The world as you know it is coming to an end—blah blah, fear me, or whatever.”

He paused and scratched his neck furiously, dislodging a bit of dry skin. Gross.

Around him, his crew was in full send. Kurogiri was maintaining portals while politely scolding a Nomu for destroying structural supports too early. A villain with too many teeth was trying to bite through a support beam. The Nomu itself? Busy punching a wall like it owed him money.

Shigaraki blinked slowly. “Wow. What a team. Peak efficiency,” he muttered under his breath, sarcasm dripping.

The heat from nearby flames singed the air. Students screamed. Somewhere, Aizawa was flipping through the battlefield like a damn ninja, eyes glowing with steely rage.

And yet, Shigaraki’s greatest concern?

“I could be home watching cat videos right now,” he grumbled, barely audible over the chaos. “Instead, I’m here...blowing up a building. A building. Like, can we not just...I don’t know, hack the news? Leave a dramatic voicemail? Why does everything have to be fire and destruction with these people?”

He let out a long, theatrical sigh and sank slightly deeper into his hoodie. “This is not what I signed up for.”

He glanced toward the exit wistfully. Maybe, just maybe, if he faked a migraine, Kurogiri would portal him home early.

Chapter Text

A few days after the USJ incident, Shigaraki did something unheard of: he took a break.

No evil monologues. No high-stakes schemes. No exploding buildings or grumbling Nomu. Just him, some hoodie that had seen better days, and the quiet haven of a cozy, out-of-the-way bookstore that smelled like old paper and overworked baristas. The kind of place where no one asked questions—just the way he liked it.

He wandered through the fiction aisle, fingers grazing worn spines, muttering under his breath. “Sci-fi... too close to reality. Romance... ew, gross. Mystery? I live one.”

Eventually, he landed in the self-help section. He stared blankly at the wall of smiling faces and motivational quotes printed on pastel covers, feeling mildly judged by all of them.

“Huh,” he said aloud, grabbing a book titled ‘The Art of Not Caring Anymore.’ He gave it a once-over, raised a brow, and tossed it into his basket. “Sounds about right.”

His eyes landed on another one: ‘Let That Sht Go.’* He snorted. “That one’s about All Might, right?”

Feeling at least half like a functioning human being, he turned to leave—just as he collided full-force with someone standing at the end of the aisle. The impact knocked over a small mountain of books stacked neatly on a promotional display. Pages fluttered everywhere like dramatic confetti.

“Seriously?” Shigaraki groaned, staring at the literary carnage. “Can’t I go five minutes without causing a scene?”

The person he’d bumped into blinked, stepping back. It was Todoroki.

Todoroki.

As in Shoto ‘My Dad Is Fire Satan’ Todoroki. The student hero. The walking iceberg with family trauma and a strong jawline.

Todoroki tilted his head, utterly calm despite the surprise. “...Shigaraki?”

Shigaraki looked up from the pile of fallen books and threw his hands in the air. “Yup. That’s me. Hi. The villain. Destroyer of dreams. Stealer of peace. Please don’t call security.”

There was a pause. Todoroki looked like he was still buffering.

Shigaraki rubbed at the coffee stain on his hoodie and sighed. “Listen, man. I’m not here to blow anything up. I’m just tired. Like, soul-deep tired. I came in for a book and a brief moment of pretending I’m not a walking red flag.”

Todoroki blinked again. “But... you’re a villain.”

“Yes,” Shigaraki snapped. “I’m a villain. But I’m also a person. A person who likes books. And cats. And sometimes ice cream when I’m not too busy plotting vague world destruction.”

Todoroki looked genuinely unsure whether to fight him, offer therapy, or recommend a better book.

Shigaraki rolled his eyes, grabbing his basket. “You know what? Never mind. Go save someone. Be a symbol. Whatever it is you do. I’m going to go cry in the self-help section and pretend I didn’t just have an emotional breakdown next to Chicken Soup for the Anxious Soul.”

He stomped off, muttering under his breath, “Next time, I’m shopping online.”

Shigaraki had barely made it two feet into the self-help section when he heard soft footsteps behind him. He didn’t turn around—he was already pretending to be deeply invested in the back cover of “Meditations for the Chronically Done With Everything.”

“...Hey,” Todoroki said, voice low, hesitant.

Shigaraki exhaled loudly through his nose. “What? Did I forget to monologue or something?”

“No,” Todoroki replied. “I just… realized I don’t know what kind of books are good. I thought maybe you did.”

That made Shigaraki turn.

He gave the younger boy a once-over. “So, let me get this straight. You, the dual-element golden boy of U.A., just asked me, the League’s grimiest disaster gremlin, for a book recommendation?”

Todoroki blinked. “Yes.”

A long pause.

Then, to Todoroki’s shock, Shigaraki let out a short, surprised laugh. “Well, damn. That’s a first.”

He glanced down at the books in his arms, then started flipping through titles on the shelf beside him. “Okay. Let’s see. You strike me as the introspective, broody type. Lots of unprocessed emotions. Probably stares dramatically out windows when it rains.”

Todoroki tilted his head. “Sometimes.”

“Of course you do.” Shigaraki pulled a worn paperback from the shelf and handed it over. “Kafka on the Shore.”

“It’s got weird cats, parallel worlds, father issues—you’ll relate.”

Todoroki studied the cover. “This doesn’t look heroic.”

“It’s not,” Shigaraki said flatly. “It’s honest. Which you need. Trust me.”

Another pause stretched between them. Shigaraki almost expected Todoroki to pull out his phone and call Aizawa or dropkick him into the cookbooks.

Instead, Todoroki gave a small nod and murmured, “Thanks.”

Shigaraki raised an eyebrow. “You’re welcome… I guess?”

They stood in awkward silence for a moment, surrounded by pastel-colored books and passive-aggressive affirmations. A soft instrumental track played over the store speakers—probably something by a guy named Elliott or Gregory with too much hair and too many feelings.

Todoroki finally broke the silence. “You... want a coffee?”

Shigaraki stared at him like he’d grown a third Quirk.

“Are you asking me to get coffee with you in the middle of your hero career while I’m actively on Japan’s Most Wanted list?”

“Yes,” Todoroki said, completely unbothered.

Shigaraki opened his mouth. Closed it. Considered his life choices. “...Screw it. Sure. Why not.”

He tossed another book into his basket, this one titled “How to Avoid Burning Out While Literally Burning the World Down.”

“Lead the way, hero boy.”

And with that, a truce formed—not out of strategy or alignment, but from mutual exhaustion and deeply confusing vibes. The barista at the café would later insist that she saw Shoto Todoroki and Tomura freaking Shigaraki sipping iced lattes together in complete silence, occasionally nodding over a book about emotional regulation.

Nobody ever believed her.

Chapter Text

The next day, Shigaraki had a new plan. A revolutionary one. One that did not involve mass destruction, dramatic cape-swirling, or listening to All For One’s raspy TED Talk voice in his head.

No. Today’s mission?

Vibe.

He stepped into a quaint little café with exposed brick, hipster lighting, and an unnecessary amount of succulents on every surface. The place smelled like overpriced dreams and medium-roast ambition.

Shigaraki took a seat in the back corner, tucked away from judging eyes and enthusiastic espresso-chuggers. He ordered a cappuccino, heavy on the foam, and pulled out his phone, thumb idly scrolling through cat memes like a tired office worker pretending his world wasn’t imploding.

“This,” he muttered, chuckling at a cat wearing a tiny chef hat, “this is the life.”

He reached into his bag and pulled out his latest read: “How to Find Your Zen: Inner Peace for Outwardly Chaotic People.” Fitting.

For the first time in a long, long time, he actually felt... calm. His shoulders weren’t hunched in rage. His hand wasn’t twitching with villainous intent. There were no explosions. No Nomu in sight. Just foam art and fleeting peace.

Buzz.

He sighed. Pulled out his phone.

A text from Him.

All For One: “Shigaraki. We need you to sabotage the next hero mission. Don’t waste time.”

Shigaraki narrowed his eyes. He stared at the message for a solid ten seconds like it had personally insulted his latte.

Then he typed:

“Not today. I’m at a café, living my best life. Get Dabi to do it. He likes fire and causing problems.”

Send.

He took a smug sip of his cappuccino and sighed contentedly. Maybe this was what being normal felt like. He could get used to it.

Buzz.

He groaned.

All For One: “You will do as I say. Now.”

Shigaraki slapped a hand over his face, muffling a scream into his palm. “I swear to god, if I wasn’t bound by this stupid villain contract, I’d be home with my cat, binge-watching dumb shows and housing an entire pizza by myself. But nooo, I’ve gotta be the villain.”

He didn’t even care that he’d said it loud enough for the entire café to hear. In fact, he hoped someone heard. Let the people know his pain.

From across the room, a small group of Class 1-A students—Uraraka, Kaminari, Jirou, and Iida—froze mid-sip.

Uraraka leaned over the table. “Did... did he just say he’s binge-watching stuff?”

Kaminari nodded slowly. “And cats. He definitely mentioned a cat. Pizza, too. This dude is out here with a cappuccino and depression.”

Jirou squinted. “Wait... is that—is that Shigaraki?”

Iida adjusted his glasses, completely scandalized. “It is! What in the name of hero protocol is he doing here?”

Shigaraki, noticing their frantic whispers, sighed and turned toward them with all the enthusiasm of a washed-up actor forced to do a school Q&A.

“Yes. Hello. Yes, it’s me. The terrifying, society-ruining villain. Talking about pizza, cats, and streaming shows with questionable reviews. Shock and awe. Truly.”

Uraraka opened her mouth.

“No, I don’t want to fight,” he cut in. “No, I don’t have a bomb. And no, I’m not plotting anything. I’m just tired. Like emotionally exhausted. And I would really, really like to finish this cappuccino in peace.”

They all blinked.

Kaminari raised a tentative hand. “...What show are you bingeing?”

Shigaraki gave him a withering stare. Then shrugged. “That cooking competition where everyone yells in British accents. Calms me down.”

There was a beat of silence.

“…Great show,” Jirou muttered.

Shigaraki turned back to his book, flipping a page with a dramatic sigh. “Finally. Some taste.”

And just like that, he returned to his Zen.

The students watched him for another full minute before Iida whispered, “Should we... report this?”

“No,” Uraraka said, sipping her drink. “Let the man have his cappuccino.”

Later that night, the Class 1-A group chat was, as always, a chaotic mess.

Kaminari:
YO
WE SAW SHIGARAKI AT A CAFÉ TODAY
☕😨🍕

Uraraka:
He was drinking a cappuccino and reading a self-help book
Not even kidding

Jirou:
He said he’s binge-watching baking shows
And complained about his villain contract
Like it’s a 9-to-5 job 💀

Iida:
This must be a psychological tactic. A demoralization strategy. A trap.
No villain would simply… relax in public!

Kaminari:
Nah bro was vibing. Like full-on “I hate my boss” energy.

Scene: U.A. Staff Room – That Evening

Aizawa sat in his sleeping bag, eyes half-open, sipping cold coffee that had once known warmth. All Might stood near the window, reviewing reports with furrowed brows.

Ping.

Aizawa glanced at his phone. Then again. Then sighed.

“…You need to see this,” he muttered, tossing the phone over to All Might.

All Might read through the messages, eyes widening slightly. “He… binge-watched baking shows?”

“And has a cat named Mr. Whiskers, apparently.”

All Might blinked. “…I can’t tell if this is a cry for help or the weirdest rebranding campaign in villain history.”

Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose. “He’s either spiraling or finally embracing burnout. Honestly? Relatable.”

There was a beat of silence as both men processed the reality of Tomura Shigaraki, symbol of chaos, sitting in a café with a frothy cappuccino and complaining about workplace stress.

“…Should we do something?” All Might asked cautiously.

Aizawa shrugged under his scarf. “What are we gonna do? Lecture him on proper villain time-off policies? Let him have his damn latte. If he starts journaling or buying candles, then I’ll worry.”

All Might nodded slowly. “So... we just let him vibe?”

“For now,” Aizawa muttered. “But if he shows up at a yoga retreat, I’m calling for backup.”

Chapter Text

Over the next few weeks, Shigaraki made a habit of showing up at bookstores and cafés around the city, trying to live a “normal” life. But, of course, he couldn’t escape his villain persona for long.

One day, he found himself sitting in a local café, quietly reading, when the door opened, and a familiar face walked in: Izuku Midoriya.

Shigaraki’s eye twitched. Of course. The universe had a way of ruining his peace and quiet.

Midoriya froze when he spotted Shigaraki. “Wait—Shigaraki?”

Shigaraki took a deep breath and muttered, “Really? Are you seriously going to do this right now? Can’t a guy have five minutes of peace? Just five minutes? Is that too much to ask?”

Midoriya looked confused. “But... why are you here? In a café? You’re the villain...”

Shigaraki stared back at him with deadpan humor. “Oh, so you’re surprised? I can’t be a villain all the time , kid. I’ve got hobbies. You should try it sometime. I read books, drink overpriced coffee, and dream of a life with cats and a comfy couch. Deal with it.”

Izuku blinked. “I—uh, I didn’t realize villains had... hobbies like that.”

“Well, they do,” Shigaraki snapped, “and if you don’t mind, I’d like to finish my coffee in peace. But I’m sure that’s asking a lot from a hero .”

Shigaraki took a long, theatrical sip of his cappuccino, never breaking eye contact. His pinky was slightly up, like he was trying to be fancy about his villainous ennui.

Midoriya stood frozen like he’d accidentally walked into a dream he wasn’t supposed to see. “Are you... undercover or something?”

Shigaraki raised a brow. “Yeah. Deep cover. My mission? Taste-testing pastries and pretending I don’t hate my entire life. Very stealth. Super top-secret.”

He pointed to the table across from him with a sigh. “You know what? Sit down. You’re already ruining the vibe, might as well commit.”

Midoriya hesitantly sat, still unsure if this was some sort of villain trap or just... really sad performance art. “So... you’ve just been hanging out at cafés?”

Shigaraki shrugged. “Bookstores. Cat shelters. I even went to a farmers market once. Tried kombucha. Regretted that immediately.”

There was an awkward silence. The soft hum of indie music played in the background, and a barista dropped a mug behind the counter with a loud crash. Neither of them flinched.

Midoriya finally asked, “So... what’s the deal? Did you, like, quit being evil or...?”

Shigaraki gave him a flat stare. “I didn’t quit. I’m on a soul-searching sabbatical. There’s a difference.”

Midoriya blinked. “That’s... not a thing.”

“It is if you believe hard enough and ignore enough death threats from your boss.”

He picked up his book—“How To Stay Calm When Everyone Around You Sucks”—and held it up. “This is the kind of villain arc I’m on now. Inner peace. Outer grumpiness.”

Midoriya scratched his head. “I honestly don’t know if I should arrest you or ask for book recommendations.”

Shigaraki sighed. “I’m not committing any crimes. I’m just reading. Like a depressed raccoon trying to gentrify. Leave me be.”

Midoriya stared at him, gears visibly turning in his head. “You know... you could talk to someone. A therapist, maybe? This burnout thing sounds serious.”

Shigaraki laughed—dry, bitter, borderline unhinged. “Oh sure, let me just waltz into a therapy session. ‘Hi, I’m Tomura, I disintegrate things when I’m anxious. Let’s unpack that trauma.’”

Midoriya opened his mouth.

“And yes, I have trauma,” Shigaraki added. “In case the past three years of explosions didn’t make that clear.”

There was another long silence.

Finally, Midoriya awkwardly offered, “I mean... I’m not a therapist, but I’m a good listener...?”

Shigaraki blinked at him, stunned. “Did you just offer to talk it out with your arch-nemesis?”

Midoriya gave a sheepish smile. “Well... you seem really stressed.”

Shigaraki stared at him for a solid ten seconds, then snorted. “You are the weirdest hero I’ve ever met. And I’ve fought Present Mic.”

He sighed and pushed a second pastry across the table. “Fine. But if we’re doing this, you’re buying the next round. Villainy doesn’t exactly come with a dental plan or a café budget.”

Midoriya nodded. “Deal.”

And just like that, Shigaraki went back to sipping his coffee, Midoriya tried not to overanalyze every breath, and two sworn enemies sat in a quiet café, pretending—for one weird moment—that maybe life didn’t have to be all fights and flames.

Scene: U.A. Dorms – Common Room

Midoriya sat quietly, trying to finish his homework. Keyword: trying—because Kaminari, Jirou, and Sero were all snickering behind him, side-eyeing their phones.

Kaminari (whispering):
“He really said ‘inner peace, outer grumpiness.’ I can’t—”

Jirou:
“Midoriya shared a cinnamon roll with him. The betrayal.”

Sero:
“Bro’s in his ‘villain redemption arc via coffee shop AU’ and Deku’s enabling it.”

Before Midoriya could turn and say something, Bakugou stormed in—rage already simmering under the surface.

Bakugou:
“Which one of you extras is gonna explain why I just got a picture from Kirishima of Deku and SHIGARAKI on a damn coffee date?!”

The room fell silent.

Midoriya paled. “It wasn’t a date.”

Bakugou’s eyebrow twitched. “HE ATE A MUFFIN. YOU LET HIM EAT A MUFFIN NEXT TO YOU. THAT’S DATE-ADJACENT, YOU ABSOLUTE DUMBASS.”

“I—he was just... there! In the café!” Midoriya waved his hands defensively. “I didn’t want to start a fight near an espresso machine!”

“He’s literally the face of villainy!” Bakugou shouted. “You don't chill with the guy who blew up like—half the city! What’s next?! You gonna spot him at yoga class and help with his breathing exercises?!”

Midoriya looked sheepish. “...He did mention yoga.”

Bakugou went full-silent. Which was worse than yelling.

Bakugou:
“This is why I have trust issues.”

He pointed a shaking finger at Midoriya. “You. You shared pastries with a war criminal. You’re dead to me.”

Kaminari whispered, “That’s fair, honestly.”

Bakugou turned on him.
“AND YOU—YOU’RE ALL LAUGHING? THIS IS A NATIONAL SECURITY THREAT!”

Sero coughed. “I mean, he said he’s on a ‘sabbatical.’ It sounded kinda legit.”

Bakugou grabbed a pillow and screamed into it.

“‘SABBATICAL?!’ WHAT IS HE, A COLLEGE PROFESSOR?!”

Later That Night – Midoriya’s Room

Midoriya’s phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number.

Shigaraki:
That blonde kid of yours needs therapy. Also, that café had terrible muffins. We’re going somewhere else next time.

Midoriya stared at it, horrified.

Another buzz.

Shigaraki:
And get him to chill. He’s going to give himself a heart attack before I even get a chance to kill him.

Chapter Text

A few days later, Shigaraki was at his favorite café, enjoying his usual routine. Coffee? Check. Book? Check. Cat video playlist on his phone? Check. Life was finally beginning to feel somewhat normal.

He had even managed to avoid any major villainous responsibilities for the day. All For One had given him the day off—probably because he was tired of hearing Shigaraki complain.

Shigaraki took a deep sip of his cappuccino, savoring the taste. For once, he wasn’t being dragged into some epic battle or dealing with the stress of world domination. He was just… existing.

And then, of course, the universe decided that Shigaraki’s peace would last exactly two minutes . The door to the café swung open, and who should stroll in but… Class 1-A.

Great. This was exactly what he needed. A bunch of wannabe heroes ruining his chill moment.

Shigaraki’s eyes narrowed as he spotted the group, especially the familiar green-haired one. Midoriya. Of course. The kid had to be everywhere.

He sighed dramatically, rubbing his face. "Why is it that every time I try to do something normal, I have to run into you ?" He muttered, loud enough for everyone in the café to hear.

Midoriya froze, eyes wide. "Shigaraki? What—what are you doing here?"

"Honestly?" Shigaraki said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms, “Trying to live a life where I’m not being asked to destroy something every five minutes. I could’ve been napping right now, but instead, I’m stuck pretending I’m some kind of terrifying villain while I sip overpriced coffee. It’s exhausting, kid.”

Midoriya glanced over at the other students, clearly unsure how to respond. "But... you’re a villain. Aren’t you supposed to be out, you know, plotting or... I don’t know, destroying something?"

"Yeah, I’m a villain, " Shigaraki said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But do you really think it’s all explosions and dramatic speeches? Sometimes I just want a goddamn latte and some peace and quiet. Is that too much to ask for?"

Kaminari, who had been listening in, leaned over to Sero and whispered, “Is this for real? He’s really just sitting here, acting like a regular guy?”

Shigaraki overheard him and deadpanned, “Yes. I’m a regular guy. Just with a slightly more explosive past than most people. But that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy a nice coffee without getting bombarded by heroes.”

Midoriya looked uncertain. “So, you’re just... here to relax?”

“Exactly.” Shigaraki sighed again, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world. “But I bet I won’t even finish my drink before I have to go do something evil, because apparently, ‘villainy’ isn’t a 9-to-5 gig.”

The students didn’t know how to respond to that, so they just awkwardly shifted their focus to their own table. Shigaraki took the opportunity to finish his cappuccino in peace. At least for a few more minutes.

A few more minutes, of course, being all the universe would allow before chaos decided to RSVP.

Just as Shigaraki was finally sinking into his seat, flipping to the next page of How to Not Commit Arson Out of Sheer Annoyance, a new voice rang out from the doorway:

"Yo! Is that the guy who disintegrated an entire city block last year?"

Shigaraki didn’t even look up. “You know what? I don’t even care anymore.”

It was Present Mic, naturally too loud for a café setting, followed by Aizawa, who looked like he’d been dragged out of bed by force. Again.

Aizawa (dry): “Why is it always you?”

Shigaraki motioned toward the café menu with his cup. “Because the barista here knows how to make a decent cappuccino. What’s your excuse?”

Aizawa sighed, visibly deciding not to engage—until he noticed the book title in Shigaraki’s hand.

Aizawa: “...‘How to Not Commit Arson Out of Sheer Annoyance’?”

Shigaraki: “It’s actually pretty insightful.”

Present Mic started snapping photos on his phone. “This is going on the U.A. bulletin board. ‘Villain Leader Turns Into Sad Coffee Gremlin: Film at 11.’”

Shigaraki (flat): “Delete that or I swear I’ll turn your mic into gravel.”

The Class 1-A students now fully abandoned their table to watch the scene unfold like a live-action reality show.

Bakugou (who had just arrived):
“What the hell is THIS circus?”

Midoriya:
“He’s... on break.”

Bakugou:
“FROM WHAT?! GLOBAL MAYHEM?! Did the apocalypse take PTO?!”

Shigaraki drained the last of his drink, stood up, and looked around the café.

Shigaraki:
“You know what? That’s it. I’m out. I’m going home to watch cat videos and yell at All For One through voicemail.”

As he passed Midoriya, he muttered, “And I better not see any of this end up in some hero newsletter. Let me have my latte in peace next time.”

Bakugou, muttering as Shigaraki left:
“Next time I see him, I’m throwing decaf at his head.”

Chapter Text

Shigaraki had been planning this for days. It was his dream, his one true escape from the stresses of villain life. After weeks of plotting his “normal” day, today was the day he would finally— finally —get to visit the local cat café. No explosions. No world-shattering schemes. Just him and a bunch of adorable cats.

As he entered the café, he let out a long sigh of relief. There were soft meows in the background, the soothing sound of purring, and the gentle ambiance of a place where nobody cared who you were or what you’d done. It was perfect.

He ordered a cup of chamomile tea, sat at a cozy little table by the window, and waited for his drink, occasionally petting a nearby tabby that had decided to grace him with its presence.

This , he thought, was the life. No stress, no missions. Just him, some cats, and his thoughts. For the first time in weeks, Shigaraki felt calm.

Until, of course, someone walked into the café, disrupting his peaceful oasis.

Shigaraki’s eye twitched as he saw the unmistakable red and white hair. It was Todoroki again. And, of course, Midoriya. And then—because life just wasn’t fair—Bakugo.

Shigaraki didn’t want to be noticed. He was supposed to be blending in , not dealing with heroes who wanted to stop him from living his best life.

He sighed, shaking his head in annoyance. "Great. There goes my whole day," he muttered under his breath, as the trio strolled in, completely unaware of his presence.

The waiter led them to the next table, and they all sat down, chatting as if this wasn’t a villain hideout. It was honestly too much for Shigaraki to handle. He rolled his eyes and took another sip of his tea.

And then it happened. Midoriya, in his usual clumsy manner, accidentally knocked over a cup of water—straight into Shigaraki’s lap.

“Oh, come on !” Shigaraki exclaimed, standing up and brushing his pants off in frustration. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Midoriya immediately panicked. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

“Yeah, clearly,” Shigaraki said, deadpan, “because that’s exactly what I needed today. Just my pants soaking wet, and my plans for a peaceful afternoon completely ruined by you heroes .”

Todoroki raised an eyebrow. “It’s just water. Calm down.”

“I don’t need your advice, kid,” Shigaraki snapped, though there was no real malice in his voice. He sighed, shaking his head. “Here I was, thinking I could have a normal day, and now I’ve got water stains and awkward conversation with people who are supposed to hate me. Just fantastic.”

Bakugo, who had been silent until now, looked up with a sharp gaze. “Shigaraki, seriously? What’s with all the complaining? You’re the villain here. Do you expect sympathy?”

Shigaraki shot Bakugo a look. “No, I don’t expect sympathy. I expect to be left alone to enjoy my tea and my cats . But apparently, that’s too much to ask for. Is it really so hard to just let me live my villainous and peaceful life in peace ?”

Midoriya opened his mouth, but no words came out. He was too busy processing the fact that Shigaraki, the villain , had just uttered the word “peace” and was actually annoyed about water spilling on his pants.

“Look,” Shigaraki said, finishing his tea, “I’m done here. You’ve all ruined my zen moment. Have fun with your weird hero stuff. I’m going back to my cats.”

He turned on his heel and walked out, leaving the trio of heroes standing there, thoroughly baffled by the strange, disgruntled villain they’d just encountered.

As he stepped out onto the street, he couldn’t help but mutter, “Well, there goes my whole afternoon. I guess I’ll just go home and yell at Mr. Whiskers for not keeping me company.

Shigaraki was back at the cat café the next day—because of course he was. The last attempt had ended in soggy pants and heroic chaos, but today was different. Today, he was determined. He had a plan: sit in the corner, sip his lavender tea, pet the cats, ignore the world.

He was just starting to relax, a purring calico perched on his lap, when the front door slammed open with the subtlety of a wrecking ball.

“SHIGGY!”

A whirlwind of blonde hair and dangerous excitement bolted through the café like a caffeinated knife. Toga, eyes wide and cheeks flushed, practically threw herself into the nearest pile of cats.

Behind her, smoke drifted in with the scent of charred leather as Dabi strolled in like this was his place now. His coat was smoldering slightly.

Shigaraki didn’t even look up from his tea.
“Why,” he said in a dead monotone, “are you both like this?”

Toga flopped onto the floor, three cats climbing over her like she was the warmest piece of furniture they’d ever met. “We heard you were trying to be normal,” she said dreamily. “So we came to help!”

“Help?” Shigaraki blinked. “This isn’t a villain mission, Toga. I came here to unwind.”

Dabi pulled up a chair next to him, setting a plastic bag on the table. “I brought snacks.” He pulled out a charred onigiri. “It’s... extra crispy.”

“I swear to god,” Shigaraki muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I’m one spilled cup away from a full breakdown.”

Toga ignored him completely, now attempting to convince one of the café cats to “be her best friend forever” while Dabi opened his bag of disaster snacks and dropped crumbs on the table.

“Do you know how hard it is to find peace and quiet in this villain economy?” Shigaraki hissed. “I had twenty minutes of uninterrupted bliss before you two showed up.”

“You’re welcome,” Dabi said, taking a bite. “Besides, we figured if you’re going domestic, you could use some company.”

“Yeah!” Toga beamed. “We can be a cute little villain family! Like a weird sitcom! I call the role of chaotic daughter who maybe stabs things.”

Shigaraki stared at her. “You are the chaotic daughter who stabs things.”

“Aww, Dad, you do care.”

“No,” he said firmly. “Absolutely not. I’m not your dad. I’m not anyone’s dad. I am a tired man who wants tea and cats, not parental responsibility and singed rice balls.”

The barista walked by, glanced at the table, and visibly hesitated before asking, “Um… is everything okay over here?”

Shigaraki gave her a brittle smile. “Yes. Just me and my support group of emotionally unstable war criminals.”

The barista nodded slowly and walked away without another word.

Dabi leaned back in his chair. “This is nice. We should do this every week.”

Shigaraki took a long sip of tea and muttered, “I should’ve joined a book club.”

Chapter Text

The students of Class 1-A were lounging in the com mon room after a long day of training. Everyone was trying to relax, except for one person—Shigaraki.

"Seriously," Kaminari muttered, sitting with his feet up on the couch. "Is Shigaraki... like, for real?"

“I mean, he was at that café again, right?” Uraraka said, leaning back in her chair. “He didn’t seem that villain-y. Just sitting there with a book, sipping tea like he's... a regular guy or something.”

“He definitely seemed off,” Todoroki added. “I’m pretty sure he muttered something about needing a break from his villainous duties and—”

“Wait,” Bakugo interjected, not looking up from his phone, “ he said that?”

“Yeah,” Midoriya said, scratching the back of his head. “I mean, he is a villain, but he was acting like... like a normal person, you know? It’s kind of hard to take him seriously when he’s talking about cat videos .”

“Did he just say ‘cat videos’?” Kirishima asked, eyes wide in disbelief. “Shigaraki? The guy who’s always threatening to destroy everything, watches cat videos?”

“Oh, he watches lots of them,” Midoriya added with a nervous laugh. “I think he might be more into them than actual villainy. He also mentioned wanting to just live a quiet life without constantly blowing things up. And... his cat’s name is ‘Mr. Whiskers.’”

The students all exchanged confused glances. "Mr. Whiskers?" Kaminari repeated.

“Yeah,” Midoriya said, still not quite processing the absurdity of it. “He, uh, told me he spends his downtime with Mr. Whiskers instead of, you know, plotting evil things. It’s... weird.”

Todoroki raised an eyebrow. “So, he’s more into cats than world domination?”

The room went silent for a moment. No one seemed to know how to respond to that.

"Yeah, I don't get it either," Midoriya admitted, shaking his head. "One minute he’s talking about world-ending plans, and the next he’s complaining about how his coffee spilled all over him. It's like... he's got a split personality or something."

Just as they were starting to delve deeper into the mystery of Shigaraki’s “normal life,” a voice from the doorway interrupted.

"You think I don't know you're talking about me?" Shigaraki's voice rang out, smooth and sarcastic, but with a bite that immediately had everyone in the room freezing.

The students whipped around to see Shigaraki standing there, leaning casually against the doorframe, his eyes narrowed in his usual deadpan fashion.

“Sh-Shigaraki?!” Midoriya stammered, clearly caught off guard.

Shigaraki pushed himself off the frame and stepped into the room. “Honestly, if you’re gonna gossip about me, at least get your facts straight. You think I’m a ‘cat person,’ huh?” He let out a small chuckle. “Well, guess what? I think you’re all a little too obsessed with me. You know, I have other hobbies. Like, I don’t know, peaceful coffee shop visits . But nooo, you have to make everything about me being some kind of villain all the time.”

“W-Wait a minute,” Uraraka said, raising her hand nervously, “You really do watch cat videos?”

“ Obviously ,” Shigaraki replied with a smirk. “I mean, have you seen them? Cats are hilarious. Especially the ones that knock things off tables. It’s like they’re the true chaotic force of nature.”

The students blinked in shock, processing this information.

“That’s... not what we expected to hear,” Todoroki said, almost deadpan, but with the slightest hint of amusement.

“Well, life isn’t always what you expect,” Shigaraki shot back, with an exaggerated shrug. “One day you’re planning to destroy a city, the next you’re watching cats knock over vases. And I’d prefer it if you didn’t gossip about me like I’m some kind of enigma. I’m just a guy, okay? A guy who wants a break from villainy once in a while. And coffee. Lots of coffee.”

Kaminari, who had been grinning since the start of this strange encounter, couldn’t help himself. “You know, Shigaraki, I always thought you were just... all about destruction and chaos. But now? I think I just want to hang out with you and watch some cat videos.”

Shigaraki’s gaze darkened, though there was an unmistakable dry humor in his voice. “Please, don’t make me the ‘cool villain’ who likes to watch funny videos in his downtime. I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”

Before anyone could say anything else, the door to the common room opened again, and in walked the teachers, Aizawa and Gran Torino, both looking like they had just been enjoying their own break.

“Are you all talking about Shigaraki?” Aizawa asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Talking about me?” Shigaraki’s eyes narrowed, his tone sharper now. “Oh, you think I don’t know what’s going on? Everyone’s obsessed with me, huh? You guys do realize I can hear you, right?”

Gran Torino, who had been eavesdropping just outside the door, chuckled. “Seems like they’ve been gossiping about you, kid. Maybe you’ve got a fan club.”

“I don't want a fan club,” Shigaraki shot back, though his sarcasm was dripping like usual. “I just want a goddamn nap and a quiet life, without being everyone’s topic of discussion.”

Aizawa sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Let me guess, you’ve already ruined their idea of what a villain is supposed to be?”

“Yep,” Shigaraki replied, his voice laced with dry humor. “Who knew I’d end up a punchline in their little hero academy?”

With that, Shigaraki turned around, his expression going from exasperated to almost... amused. “Alright, I’m out of here. You guys enjoy your gossip session, I’ll just go back to my normal life of not being a villain for once.”

Before anyone could protest, he walked out, leaving the Class 1-A students and the teachers in stunned silence. Gran Torino broke the silence first with a chuckle.

“You know, I’m starting to think he’s not the villain we’ve all made him out to be. He’s got the sarcasm and bitterness down, but...” He shrugged. “He’s just a guy, really. Who loves cats. Go figure.”

Aizawa, rubbing his temples, muttered, “I swear, if I hear one more thing about Shigaraki and his cats, I’m going to lose it.”

But even he couldn’t hide the smallest hint of a smile.

All For One sat in his darkened lair, his fingers drumming against the armrest of his chair. He had been watching Shigaraki’s progress—or, more accurately, his lack of progress—as the young villain seemed more and more interested in sipping overpriced coffee and petting cats than plotting world domination.

His surveillance monitors flickered on, showing Shigaraki lounging in a café, idly scrolling through his phone, oblivious to the chaos of his duties. He’d once thought Shigaraki would be his greatest weapon, a ruthless force to be reckoned with, but now? Now, it was like he had to drag the kid out of his self-imposed villain “time-outs” every time the world needed to burn.

“Pathetic,” All For One muttered to himself, his voice rich with a blend of frustration and quiet amusement. He leaned forward, activating the intercom to Shigaraki’s temporary hideout.

“Tomura,” he said coldly. “What exactly do you think you’re doing?”

The response came through, crackling with an edge of weariness that only made All For One’s irritation grow. “Nothing, just... taking a break. I needed some time away from the whole ‘villain’ thing, okay?”

All For One’s eye twitched. “A break? You’ve had plenty of breaks, Tomura. The world does not pause for you to indulge in cat cafés and overpriced lattes. You’ve become a joke.”

Shigaraki’s voice came through again, tinged with sarcasm. “Right, because world domination and destruction are such well-rounded hobbies. I’m so sorry I’m not out there blowing up buildings like a model villain. Maybe I’ll try again next week, huh?”

All For One seethed in silence for a moment, taking a long, deliberate breath. The audacity of this brat, his supposed heir, who now considered cuddling with cats a greater priority than the destruction of heroes. But no matter how exasperating it was, he couldn’t ignore that there was something oddly charming about Shigaraki’s rebellion against the constant grind of villainy. It was... human.

“I’ve given you everything, Tomura,” All For One said slowly, trying to rein in the venom in his voice. “Everything to make you the most powerful being on this planet. And what do I get in return? You want peace? Normalcy? You’ve forgotten what we stand for!”

There was a pause before Shigaraki’s voice came through again, quieter this time. “Maybe I just want to be a person, instead of a weapon. Maybe I want to be more than some pawn in your grand scheme. Is that too much to ask for?”

All For One clenched his jaw, seething. “Your path is not your own to choose! You will take your place in the war I’ve started. I won’t let you fall into the pit of weakness and complacency like those heroes.”

But before Shigaraki could respond, a loud crash echoed from the other side of the lair. All For One snapped his head toward the sound, his fingers twitching in irritation.

“What now?” he growled, his patience already worn thin.

One of his monitors flickered to life with a stream of footage from a separate part of the League’s base. There was Toga—dancing with a broomstick as she sang something incoherent—Dabi lounging on a couch with his smoldering jacket still half-burnt, flipping through a magazine—and Mr. Compress, who had apparently decided to pull a full-on magic trick for no reason.

“I see…” All For One said, rubbing his temples. “They’ve noticed, haven’t they?”

His eye narrowed in disgust. The League members were becoming restless, their loyalty fraying at the edges. Why wasn’t Tomura keeping them in line? Why was he indulging in this trivial nonsense?

And that’s when it hit him: jealousy. They were all growing resentful of Tomura’s new little “vacations,” his time-outs from villainy. They saw him enjoying life, living like some carefree fool, while they were left to carry out his missions.

“What a mess,” All For One muttered darkly to himself. He would have to address this. Not just with Shigaraki, but with the others. Their frustration was becoming palpable, and if it wasn’t dealt with, it would spill over into insubordination.

Just as he was about to send another message to Shigaraki, his communication device buzzed with an incoming message from Dabi—because of course it was him, the rebellious brat of the group.

“Tomura’s too busy being a ‘normal guy’ to care about the big picture. Maybe you should try doing something with the rest of us for a change. He’s making us look like we’re not needed.”

All For One’s fingers curled into a fist. The audacity. The disrespect. These children were testing his patience.

Fine, he thought bitterly. If Shigaraki won’t get the message, I’ll make sure the others do.