Chapter Text
If you had asked Izuku Midoriya how his day had been he’d tell you absolute shit. School is ass and his classmates are assholes. The only saving grace being his night shift at the coffee shop he worked at, Midnight Brew.
It was a small and quiet location, perfect for the vigilantes and underground heroes that frequent the place. The owner, Mrs. Misaki, had opened the Midnight Brew after her husband passed. The two had been an incredible hero duo and this was how she wanted to continue to give back to the community, or at least that’s what their daughter, Kamiko, always told Izuku.
Kamiko might as well have been Izuku’s older sister with how close they had gotten in the past couple of years. She’s very headstrong and holds herself with an amount of confidence that Izuku can only aspire to have one day. Kamiko also has a fun quirk that allows her to change the color of anything she touches. The effect doesn’t last longer than ten minutes, but it always made Izuku laugh at the underground heroes and vigilantes who get handed a bright pink latte with no explanation. Just a kind smile and have a great night. She had even changed Izuku’s hair color to yellow and didn’t tell him. Her smirks and small giggles gave away her act and she handed Izuku her phone camera. That had been a good night.
It made Izuku smile hearing all the stories from the Misaki family. He had a deep appreciation for the family and for the job that they had given him at just 12 years old. He had been working at the coffee shop for two years now. It was a nice distraction from the awful reality he was living. They didn’t ask questions about why a 12 year old was out all night and how he managed school on top of a night job and he planned on keeping it that way.
Inko Midoriya. Just the thought of her made Izuku shiver. She isn’t what he’d call a stellar parent and neither was Hisashi, his sorry excuse for a father. Inko had been gone for two years now and she had taken everything from the apartment with her. Everything. There was no food, no plates, cups, her clothing, any trace of her was gone. The only thing in her absence was a note on the fridge:
Don’t bother looking for me, you quirkless parasite.
Izuku didn’t hold resentment towards her…he doesn’t think so. I mean who could blame her? It’s not easy to handle the stress of a quirkless child and picking up extra shifts at the hospital to make up for the lack of her husband’s income. This is what Izuku told himself. It was easier to deal with the pain that way.
Eventually people started to get curious. To keep them away, Izuku had made a fake email and phone number in his mother’s name so that he could continue to live in the apartment. The first couple of months were difficult. At just 12 years old he was scrambling to every place he could think of that might give him a chance to work. He went to 23 different places before he finally found Midnight Brew. It had been completely by accident. After his 23rd failure he decided to stop into the first place he found, which just so happened to be a cozy little moon themed cafe open at odd hours of the night.
He got talking with Kamiko, essentially telling her about his previous month’s endeavors, purposefully leaving out the portion where his mom left. He pauses when Kamiko holds up a finger to him and heads towards the back room door. Izuku stands awkwardly at the end of the bar where the two had been talking before two sets of footsteps get louder. Kamiko returns to Izuku with an older woman who looks oddly similar to Kamiko. The two meet eyes.
Taiyo Misaki. Prohero: Illustra [Retired]. Age:55, Quirk: Doodle.
Making a subtle note in his head at the last name the two share.
“My daughter here tells me you’ve been having difficulty finding a job.” The older woman, Taiyo, speaks up.
Izuku lowers his head to the floor and murmurs out, “Yes ma’am.”
“You’re hired.”
Izuku’s head snapped up to the pair, eyes wide. Kamiko was holding out a deep purple apron. Taking it into his hands, he runs his fingers across the fabric. The cloth was a nice shade of purple, just saturated enough to be calming, but not bright enough to strain anyone’s eyes, the shade matching the color of the cafe walls. The fabric itself was soft, but felt durable in a way he knew it could hold up with the amount of milk, espresso, and syrup he was sure to spill on himself. Towards the bottom housed two pockets that could easily hold any coins, notes, or pens he’d need, and at the very center of the chest housed an embroidered crescent moon encased in a shape that Izuku could only assume was a sun.
“Welcome to the Midnight Brew Crew.”
Ding
The sound of the door opening brought Izuku out of his thoughts.
Although the man walking through the door had never spoken to Izuku, a new customer in fact, information began to flood into Izuku’s peripherals.
Tsukamoto Sho. Prohero: Poundcake. Age:35, Quirk: Thunderwave.
Izuku shook his head and blinked away the information overload. This had been happening since he was little. He never really bothered to ask about it.
“Hi! What can I get started for you?” Izuku asked with his best customer service smile plastered on his face.
The hero smiled back at him, “Just one medium hot caramel macchiato. Oh, could I get that with almond milk please?”
“We actually just ran out of almond milk, but I do have other non-dairy options such as soy, coconut, or oat milk. Would one of those work?”
“No worries, oat milk would be just fine, thanks.”
Izuku rang the man up and began working on steaming the oat milk and pulling shots. The night had so far proved to be uneventful. Finishing the hot coffee, Izuku handed it over to the pro and wiped his hands on his apron. Kamiko came out from the back room. It was just him and her tonight.
“Hey 'Zuku I’ll handle up here, could you make a few whips?” Her hand was placed lightly on his shoulder and she gave him a soft smile.
“How many, eight or ten?”
Kamiko’s face scrunched up in thought, “Mmmm eight.” Her hand drops from his shoulder and Izuku can’t help but miss the contact. Brushing past her, he walks into the back and grabs the silver whip cream canisters. Heading back out front and lining them up on the back counter, he makes a second trip to grab the lids and white rubber seals making sure to inspect that each nozzle was cleared of previous whip cream residue.
He had always loved making whip cream for some reason. It was something so incredibly simple, but therapeutic in an interesting way which is why Kamiko always asked him to make them. There were a few things in the two years that Izuku had been there that had just become second nature. Izuku usually did the menial tasks such as making whip cream, making cold brew, restocking lids and cups, and Kamiko always did the dishes and ordered supplies. An odd trade off, but it worked for them. Mrs. Misaki was there just about every night, but she was almost always out front conversing with the heroes and regulars.
It was calm. Peaceful.
Izuku sniped the vanilla real quick to pump into the canisters before quickly returning it to its home on the syrup stand. The door rings out and Izuku glances back towards the door. His eyes light up and information once again floods his mind, although this info is nothing new.
Aizawa Shouta. Prohero: Eraserhead. Age: 30, Quirk: Erasure.
He was one of the regulars at Midnight Brew. Frequenting the place every Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday night at roughly 4am. For the past 104 weeks Izuku had seen this man; he had never been late once. Always punctual and always order the same thing - a large black americano.
The first time Izuku made his drink it was just that, a black americano. It took everything in him not to stare at the pro hero in shock as he dumped eight packets of raw sugar into his drink. Since then, Izuku made sure not to forget the sugar, although the man will never admit he puts that much in there.
“Is Taiyo here tonight?”
“Nope! Just stuck with me and Izuku tonight, Eraserhead.”
At the mention of his name, Izuku turns around and manages a small wave at the hero. For the past two weeks the hero had introduced Izuku to sign language. It was a little difficult to find the time to practice with school and work, but Izuku was eager to learn.
Before picking up his coffee, Eraser signs ‘how’s tonight been?’
Izuku stops and thinks for a moment before shaping his hands to form the signs ‘fine’, ‘slow.’ He pauses before adding ‘calm.’
‘Good job.’
Izuku smiles at that before returning back to his whip creams.
Everything was fine.
——
Everything was in fact not fine.
Shouta’s eyes were burning. Eyelids closed shut as his eyedrops seeped into every corner effectively numbing the pain. He huffs out in annoyance.
Patrol was average, slow even, but the last villain he had to deal with had some shadow quirk meaning erasure was in full effect the duration of the fight. The villain was some early twenty year old trying to shake some cash off civilians using said shadow quirk. A pathetic attempt really, but he wasn’t going down without an absolute fit hence why Shouta’s eyes hurt.
The fight took way longer than it should’ve. Shouta blinked by accident when the kid threw rocks at his face and the shadow user made sure to take advantage of the situation. Dark lines making a rapid advance towards the hero knocking him down. Not expecting such a quick rebound, Shouta winces as his wrist lands harshly on the ground. Snapping his head back up and activating erasure once again, he sends out his capture weapon and puts an end to the fight. The young villain yelling out profanities as Shouta sends yet another text to Tsukauchi.
Tsukaushi arrives and the pro leaves the scene. Shouta had always had a profound love and hatred for night. For one it was a time for sleeping, something that he didn’t often get but hey, it’s the thought that counts. Second, it was the only time when he was younger that he felt like he could be himself. Darkness can hide a lot and for that he was grateful, but not everything is amazing about it. Night is when crime is most active; Other people partaking with the same idea of hiding in the dark. Nasty and vile human beings murdering for fun or for some other end goal. Thank god for Shouta’s awful sleep schedule and it allows him to patrol at night. He had even more time now after recently expelling this year's entire class of “heroes”.
This year’s 1-A class made him sick. All the kids could think about was what they were gonna do when they became famous. Flashy quirks and false ideals is how Shouta would sum them up. He refused to continue to teach children a false sense of security and effectively expelled or relocated them to other classes. People die, including heroes, and those kids had a one way ticket to the grave if he allowed them to continue on their arrogant paths.
Pulling off his signature yellow goggles, Shouta checks his watch as he hops from roof to roof. 3:47am. Coffee time.
Midnight Brew was Shouta’s favorite place - well, besides at home with his husband and ever growing crew of cats. He actually used to work at the coffee shop during his first and second year at UA. It was a welcoming place that didn’t ask questions. And for someone in and out of numerous foster homes, that’s just what Shouta had needed - a welcomed distraction. It was the only constant he had for a while.
The storefront was the same as it was 15 years ago when he worked there. Warm wooden floors complemented by a deep violet color on the walls. Small moon themed decor sprinkled around plus the laziest calico cat Shouta had ever met named Tinko.
Said cat greets him at the door. Eyes flickering to the register, he’s met with familiar coral eyes.
“Is Taiyo here tonight?”
Kamiko responds, “Nope! Just stuck with me and Midoriya tonight, Eraserhead.” A smile making its way onto her face. She doesn’t even bother asking what he wants, instead grabbing a large hot cup and queuing the shots.
Speaking of Midoriya, the young boy was at the back counter. He turned around and gave the pro a small wave. Before he could turn back around, Shouta signs to him.
A couple of weeks ago Shouta had brought Hizashi with him to the cafe. It was a rare occasion when their schedules lined up and they decided to get coffee around Shouta’s usual time. After busy nights at his radio show, Mic preferred to take his hearing aids out and this was one of those nights. The two ordered their coffees. They enjoyed the drinks while signing at each other and forgoing speaking out loud.
Midoriya had been there that night. The kid’s eyes had immediately lit up when Present Mic had come in. A few times after that Shouta caught him staring at the two, looking intently at their hands. At one point Shouta even signed ‘hello’ at the boy making his eyes widen and face redden at the prospect of being caught. It was quite the sight to watch as Midoriya scampered off to the back room.
If Zashi saw Shouta smile under his capture weapon…no he didn't.
If Shouta was honest with himself he was concerned for the boy. When he had first met him two years ago his appearance was worrying. Ratted clothes, greasy hair, eyes bags that rivaled his own. Not to mention the countless cuts and bruises that have come and gone. But because the cafe is a question free environment, there was nothing he could do or he’d risk scaring off the boy altogether. It frustrated him. Some nagging part in the back of his brain knew something was wrong.
So for now, Shouta would just continue to get his large black americano…with eight packets of raw sugar.
He’ll tell you he gets it black every time. Do not believe him.