Izuku loved coffee.

….

Ok well no. He was flat out lying. He was more of a tea person than the most tea person in this world.

He loved the little coffee shop.

Partly true. It was small, wedged between the back of two massive, modern glass buildings, a quaint Japanese style coffee shop. To Izuku, who had more hero business here in the States nowadays than in Japan, it was the taste of home that he had been missing.

He might or might not have a crush on the barista working there (the might was stronger than the might not).

Completely true but he was not about to announce that for the world to hear.

But seriously, the barista was way too cute, words alone could not do his look justice.

Speaking of the devil, he was here with Izuku's order. Mocha with a side of passion fruit cheesecake.

'Thank you,' Izuku mumbled, trying valiantly to hide the blush that spread across his face as he accidentally looked into the one visible bottomless grey eye. The other was covered with the long bang but Izuku was certain it was just as beautiful.

The man inclined his head minutely with a small smile not quite reaching his eyes before disappearing behind the counter, his flaming red hair leaving an invisible trail in his steps.

Izuku mentally slapped himself. No, this was not the time to fantasize. He came to the coffee shop with a mission and he was not going to be distracted by the cute, way-out-of-his-league, super attractive barista.

The thud as his forehead met the half-finished speech for tomorrow hero conference was resounding in the empty coffee shop at the late hour.


Becoming a hero came with a price, his confidentiality. He literally could not go anywhere without being recognised and mobbed by the eager crowd, asking for photos and signatures. Of course Izuku, being the nice and people-pleasing person he was, did his best to please everyone. And sometimes, it left him listless and inert.

But thanks to those overzealous fans (he had fans!), he found the little coffee shop haven while jogging (running, his mind whispered traitorously) away from them.

Fuyumi. Beauty winter. In crisp, meticulous Japanese script.

It had been only two weeks since he was away from home, but he already missed seeing Japanese characters everywhere on the street. His English was not bad but being surrounded with it 20/7 made him wish he wasn't the number three hero. With great power comes great responsibility and all that. And now, seeing something familiar in a not so familiar land made him tear up with thick fat happy gracious tears.

It didn't help that all the coffee-goers were Japanese-Amercicans though. Izuku loved loved being surrounded in ambient Japanese chatter. And being just another nameless face in the crowd even though his clothing choice (cap and a pair of sunglasses) screamed famous. Probably due to the fact that all coffee goers were in their 40s-mid 50s with little care to gossips and gimcrack teen magazines.

It was no surprise that Izuku became a frequenter of the little store. It made his frequent overseas hero business more bearable and made him at least look forward to the next one, just because he wanted to strike up a conversation with the cute barista but never found the courage to.


AN: A coffee shop AU (a must-have for every fandom). oh my god stop me from starting new fic please!