A/N:
I really don't know what I'm doing here. I've written before, but I've never really uploaded to before, so I'm still trying to figure out the document manager set up. If there are any formatting issues, please let me know! I'm gonna try to get all the kinks out I can, but I might miss something, so don't be afraid to speak up. Thanks for reading! 3
A/N 2, after editing:
So, I've checked the formatting and, on pc & mobile browser it's fine, but for some reason the app is messing up italics/bold placement? If any of you have any ideas as to why, please let me know! It's driving me crazy lmao
A/N 3, 09/09/20:
Hey guys! Sorry if you thought this was a new chapter, I'm just editing to try and fix the formatting errors. If this doesn't work/improve at least a little, I think I'm going to give up on it until after the rest of the story's posted. That said, there will be a new chapter tonight/tomorrow morning so watch out for that! 3

Chapter One

"The fuck do you mean you don't get it, Pikachu? We've been doing this for three hours! You just did this! Correctly! Get your head out of Earphone's ass and focus!"

Katsuki was very quickly losing his patience. He'd been woken up by his self-proclaimed "friends" after midnight, begging and pleading for him to help them with their math homework. Then, two hours in, Shitty Hair—proving just how shitty he actually was—convinced them to take a break. Katsuki had a hunch that Pinky was involved, and the second Pikachu started bringing up his purple-haired freak of a girlfriend, he'd decided that he was going to kill all four of them.
He had to be up and ready to take his science exam in two hours.
He was honestly raging.
But that was nothing new.

He huffed and stood, shoving his things into his backpack with newly invigorated anger, only pausing when Kirishima grabbed at his wrist. He gave the redhead a glare that had him dropping his arm immediately.
"I have two hours, Shitty Hair. I'm going somewhere to focus. Do. Not. Fucking. Follow. Me." He gave Kaminari a withering look—they were both known for ignoring his anger, but he needed to make it clear that this time they'd be crossing a line. A very, very fine line that Katsuki had fought to uphold the entire time they forced their friendship upon him.
He was grateful, sure—not that he'd ever tell them that—he liked his friends, and they were helpful from time to time. But fuck it all if they weren't annoying as hell.

They were finally in their third year at UA and, as good as they were as heroes, Kirishima and Kaminari still didn't give a damn about their grades. At least, not until the last possible second. They were too busy following acid-girl to parties and cheering purple-hair on at her shows. Katsuki didn't understand—how could those ridiculous girls ever be more important than their futures? Than being a hero?
But that wasn't his decision to make, and he sure wasn't going to waste time giving a damn about something he couldn't change. So instead, he hopped the fence outside their dorms and followed Google Maps until he found a quiet, half-way decent looking coffee shop.
The lights were a dim, warm yellow glow that had his shoulder relaxing. The strong aroma of freshly ground filled his nose and made him crave a cup. Like an oasis in the middle of the desert, this nameless coffee shop—well, nameless to him—had become his safe haven the second he stepped in the door.

He dumped his bag at a table in the back corner, ignoring the other three patrons. Stomping up to the counter, he tiredly demanded a cup of black coffee and a plain bagel. The girl at the register was plain looking—the most eye-catching things about her being her septum piercing and the bar going through her left eyebrow. And, of course, the deep, bottomless, depressing sadness that exuded off of her. Katsuki's brow furrowed, watching her pour his coffee with narrowed eyes. When she turned back to hand it to him, he paused. He didn't know why, he'd never given a damn about a stranger before, but he just had to ask.
"The fuck's wrong with you?"

The barista—Gwen, her nametag said—stared at him, shocked. Her green eyes were large and round, reminding him of the color of the leaves in his backyard during the summer. They contrasted against her pale skin nicely, but he didn't notice. He was too busy waiting for an answer.
"I—uh, it's my birthday. No one remembered."
Her voice was soft, and quite frankly, a little unexpected. She looked fierce, in a stereotypical kind of way. Piercings, dark hair, sharp features, lots of metal jewelry layered around her neck and wrists—she was the textbook definition of "grunge girl" but here she was, damn near mumbling at him, all confidence drained from her posture like she was a goddamn air mattress.
"That's shitty." He took the coffee cup.
"It happens a lot." She handed him the bagel. He took that, too.
"That's even shittier, Coffee-Girl. You always mumble this much or are you just wallowing right now?"
Gwen blinked owlishly at him.
"My—My name's Gwen. Not Coffee-Girl." She didn't sound any better, and her eyes bounced around the shop as she looked for an out. A new customer, a table to clean, something.
There wasn't anything.
"Katsuki," he grumbled, not sure why he gave her his given name in the first place, "and you didn't answer my fuckin' question. You always this fuckin' pathetic?" This time, her eyes narrowed. Her lips flattened into a line, her shoulders rolled back defensively.
"Are you always this fucking rude? I'm trying to do my job here."

Katsuki's hands clenched around his food, but he kept control over his anger. He wasn't really mad—more than anything, he was excited she'd stood up for herself. Most people didn't when he was so straightforward; they tended to keep their heads down and tell him whatever he wanted to hear to avoid conflict. But her—when he pushed her buttons, she bit back, and that fascinated him.
He rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue, taking his food over to his table. The next two hours were spent studying Chemistry and wondering what the fuck Coffee-Girl had meant when she'd said, "It happens a lot."
What happened a lot? People forgetting about her? Or her being sad in general? And why the hell did she absolutely refuse to just speak up?
Katsuki shook his head, forcing himself to focus on his textbook for the millionth time. Three quarters of the way down the page—and two more coffees—later, his alarm rung, telling him it was time for his morning run. He looked up; everyone else had left, but Coffee-Girl was still there, cleaning tables, trying to keep busy. He packed up his stuff and threw a twenty on the table. He knew it was way too much for a bagel and three plain coffees, but he was in a hurry. She could have the change, he didn't care.

He damn near sprinted out the door, over the school's fence, through the dorm's hallways, all the way to his own room. Once inside he changed for his usual morning workout and left again, this time heading for the school's gym.

The next night was much the same. Eat dinner, go to bed. Wake up and teach Kirishima and Kaminari everything they'd ignored during class, get fed up about two hours in, bolt to the coffee shop. His friends didn't bother to follow him, and they didn't ask where he went, either.

As he stepped in, like the night before, the smell of coffee had his mouth watering. He went up to the counter to order, waiting behind some old man with a laptop counting the change he'd been given. In front of the man stood a very, very sad girl. It came off her in waves, knocking into Katsuki like he'd just run into a wall. Well, she wasn't here yesterday, he thought.
The man left, Katsuki stepped forward. A coffee and a bagel, just like the night before. And, just like the night before, he spoke up about his observation.
"The fuck's wrong with you?"

He'd startled her so bad she jumped, her hand jerking and spilling hot coffee all over her forearm. He heard her cursing frantically under her breath, rushing to get it off both her skin and the counter. She set the half-filled cup in the sink, grabbing a clean one before filling that and turning back to him, cup in hand. He scoffed under his breath.
"You always so jumpy, Coffee-Girl?"
She didn't respond; just handed him his bagel and went back to cleaning the counter. His eyes narrowed.
"Oi! I'm talkin' to you!"
Gwen whirled around, angry. Katsuki—the only thing she knew to call him, although it wasn't near mean enough for her liking—was the only person that had ever tried to bother her during work. Nobody else noticed, and if they did, they didn't remember that they had. It was only the second day of having to deal with him and she was already exhausted of it. Couldn't he just let her wallow in peace like everyone else?
"Well maybe you shouldn't be! I have a job to do!"
That'll shut him up, she thought bitterly, it did yesterday.
"Well then maybe you should do it, shitty girl! Instead of spilling coffee all over the place! God, does your boss even know how much you just literally threw down the drain? Fuckin' idiot!" He stomped over to the same table he had yesterday, fuming as he pulled out his textbooks. How dare she ignore him like that? How dare she talk to him like that?
Whatever. Shitty coffee-girl.

About forty-five minutes later, Katsuki was out of coffee. Noticing the anger perpetually pinching his face together getting even worse, Gwen came out from behind the counter with a fresh pot of coffee, quietly refilling his cup. He clicked his tongue like he had yesterday. Gwen assumed that was all the thanks she was going to get and went back to handling the stock behind the counter.

An hour later, Katsuki's alarm went off and he near-sprinted his way out the coffee shop again, throwing another twenty down. Gwen couldn't help but feel relief—as annoying as he was to deal with, he paid amazingly.
If this kept going, she'd actually be able to catch up on rent for once! Locking up the shop, she looked at his table longingly, surprising herself as she hoped he returned the following night.

Katsuki didn't come back that night. Instead, he came during her lunch shift, and he brought friends. They were bright and happy and friendly—everything Katsuki wasn't. How he'd coerced them into being his friends she'd never know.
He approached the counter, eyeing this sad girl he'd never met before. The strongest feeling of deja-vu he'd ever experienced washed over him, making his stomach churn. He ignored it and ordered his usual black coffee and plain bagel.

"Hi, Katsuki," Gwen said groggily. She'd woken up about fifteen minutes earlier, barely having enough time to pull her long hair up into a ponytail before darting out the door for her first shift of the day. "Do your friends want anything? I can take your orders together and split up the pay later if you want." His eyes narrowed at her.
"Do I fucking know you?" Her eyes widened into saucers, the vivid green reminding him of the trees in his backyard during summer. Her lips curled inward as she realized her mistake.
"Ah, no, sorry—it's part of my quirk," she half-lied. "Do they want anything?" She pointed her index finger at the group of five behind him laying claim to the table on the opposite side of his usual. Katsuki grunted and shook his head, still eyeing her warily. She poured his coffee and handed him his bagel.
What kind of fucking quirk tells you people's names?
Shitty Hair and Earphones started debating music as he sat down, and Katsuki very quickly put them in their places, completely forgetting his question about the tired, dark-haired barista behind him.

Katsuki was back to his new routine the next night. And it kept going, just as it was, every night, until Gwen lost her damn-near infinite patience. Thursday? "Why are you so sad? My name's Katsuki. Yes, I'm still calling you Coffee-Girl even though you've told me your name four times now." Friday? "Sad? Katsuki. Coffee-Girl." Saturday and Sunday were much the same until finally—finally—she snapped.
It was four in the morning the following Tuesday. She'd worked three shifts that day: two at the coffee shop, one at the bookstore down the street. She'd had two hours of sleep max, and he'd had the audacity to ask her for the millionth fucking time why she was sad.
Gwen knew it wasn't his fault she couldn't control her quirk. But fuck if it wasn't utterly exhausting having the same conversation for a week straight. So, when he'd said, "The fuck's wrong with you?" in that ridiculously rough voice of his, for quite literally the fifth time, she absolutely lost it. She was very grateful, not for the first time, that there were no other patrons in the shop to see her outburst.

"The fuck's wrong with me, Katsuki? We've had this conversation five fucking times! That's what's wrong with me!" Angry tears flooded her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. The last time she'd cried was when her parents had forgotten—she refused to put this jerk on the same level of importance as them. "It doesn't matter how many times I tell you why I'm sad! You'll just forget, like you always forget!" she screamed. "Everyone always forgets!"
Her hands were trembling now. The coffee cup was shaking, but she couldn't afford to pour it out if she spilled another.
Katsuki, thoroughly shaken by her outburst, grew uncharacteristically quiet. A large, calloused hand reached out, lowering hers down to the counter so the coffee wouldn't spill. She was too deep in her emotions to realize she should thank him.

"What the fuck do you mean everyone forgets? And we—you fucking know me? What's going on, Coffee-Girl?"
His alarm bells were ringing. For some reason, something in him, the part of him that wanted to be number one for more than just the sake of the title, was pushing him to figure this out. To make sure she was okay.
Her voice shook, just like her hands had, and she suddenly seemed a lot smaller now that she wasn't yelling.

"It's my quirk," she said sadly. Her eyes watched the counter like it was the most interesting thing in the world, refusing to look at him. "People forget me. Sometimes, like with you, it's everything. Sometimes, like last week, it's specific things—my boss forgot my birthday, so I had to work anyway. That was the first day you came into the shop."
Gwen looked uncomfortable. He hadn't moved his hand, and had no plans to, but he was sure if he did she'd have been wringing them together. Instead, she shuffled her feet, bit at her bottom lip. Katsuki glances at her nametag; Gwen. Don't forget it, idiot.

"Consider me done forgetting, Coffee-Girl. I'll see you tomorrow. And you better not be so fucking sad when I do." He took the half-filled coffee out of her hands and plopped down at his usual seat, pulling out his notebook instead of his textbooks. Flipping to a clean page, before he forgot again, he scribbled the words "Coffee-Girl" at the top of the page and started writing everything he knew about her.

Name? Gwen.
Birthday? April 8th.
Works at the coffee shop at night.
Quirk makes you forget her.
Do. Not. Forget. Her.