Chapter Text
The common room smelled like burnt toast and cheap coffee.
Jirou was scrolling on her phone, one jack plugged in to the side. She didn’t look up when Kaminari crossed the room—just lifted one finger in a vague, sideways point toward the coffee pot.
“Don’t,” she said.
Kaminari froze mid-reach. “What?”
“It’s bad today.”
“How bad?”
“Like regret-your-life-choices bad.”
He considered this, then poured a cup anyway. He took one sip, then grimaced immediately. “Wow. You weren’t kidding.”
She smirked, eyes still on her phone. “I never kid about coffee.”
He frowned, pouring the rest of his cup down the sink. “Who made this?”
“Mina, I think.”
“Aw, man. I like when Yaomomo makes it. She makes it smoother somehow, I swear.” He grabbed a juice, dropping into the chair across from her.
For a few seconds, neither of them spoke. The quiet wasn’t awkward—just sleepy. The kind that came with half-awake mornings and shared space.
Kaminari cracked open a package of onigiri. The wrapper crinkled.
Jirou reached out without looking. “Gimme.”
“You didn’t even ask,” Kaminari said, though he was already peeling the wrapper the rest of the way back.
“You were gonna offer.”
He handed it over. She broke it in half and tossed the bigger piece back at him.
“Wow,” he said. “Generous.”
“I’m charitable before eight a.m.”
Jirou finally glanced up at him then, eyes sharp even through the fog of morning. There was a faint crease between her brows like she’d slept wrong or stayed up too late. The corners of her mouth tipped up—not a smile, just the suggestion of one.
She took a slow sip of her tea, dark and steeped.
“You know,” Kaminari said, eyeing the tea bag dangling over the edge, “most people take that out before they drink it.”
“I like it in,” she said flatly, eyes on her phone. “Makes it a little bitter. It’s better that way.”
He wrinkled his nose. “Bitter? You actually like that?”
She glanced at him, lips twitching. “It’s an acquired taste.”
Sero wandered in, half-asleep, rubbing at his eyes. “Hey,” he yawned. “Is the coffee any—”
“Don’t,” Jirou said.
“Don’t,” Kaminari echoed. They both paused.
Sero blinked between them. “Wow, you guys rehearse that?”
Jirou reached for a sugar packet and flicked it at him. “Drink it if you want to suffer.”
“Fine,” Sero held his hands up, backing away. “Guess I’ll survive on vibes alone.”
Kaminari smiled around his bite of onigiri.
From the hallway, Iida’s voice cut in, alarmed. “Throwing condiments is not an appropriate substitute for verbal communication!”
“I did communicate. The sugar was just a warning.”
He picked the sugar packet off the ground and held it between two fingers. “That is not—“
“Morning!” Mina called over him, popping her head in with too much energy for the hour. “Ooh! The coffee’s ready!”
Jirou and Kaminari whipped their heads down, suddenly very interested in their own drinks.
Mina plucked the sugar packet from Iida’s hand. “I’ll take that.”
Jirou flicked her eyes sideways just in time to catch Kaminari doing the same. His mouth twitched, like he was struggling to keep a straight face. She looked back down at her tea, biting the inside of her cheek.
She didn’t look up until she heard Mina spitting her coffee into the sink, gagging loudly.
Mina immediately went off about how someone must have sabotaged her beautiful pot of coffee, and it didn’t take long for Iida to launch into a rigid explanation about proper brewing temperatures and grind consistency.
Eventually, the noise settled. They finished their small breakfast in companionable silence, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Voices drifted in, footsteps thudded overhead, the morning pulling them forward whether they were ready or not.
Despite the chaos, a feeling of calm seemed to linger in the room, a small bubble of comfort to carry them into the rest of the day. It wasn’t quiet—but it was familiar.