Hello everybody!
I came up with this idea a few days ago and fell in love with it- hard, and without any way to turn back. So here we are, writing this adorable AU. Much like Momo here, I am always overwhelmed with how soothing cafes can be, so I hope I can properly convey these feelings here and make you smile, if only just a bit.
Either way, you are here for the story, not for my rambles, so enjoy! (I recommend a cup of hot chocolate to go with it:))

Chapter 1: Everything Begins with a Teaspoonful of Mystery

Momo stares into the mirror and then at her attire again, checking for creases on her lila apron. It's been a while since she has properly done this. Sure, she filled in for Uraraka when she was sick and she sometimes came in on short notice, when the shop was in dire need of a helping hand, but she hasn't worked three shifts a week since high school.

The ends of the apron are tied in a perfect bow over her waist, her hair is bouncing against the back of her neck in its usual work-ponytail and her smile is fine, she decides after a long examination in the mirror- wide enough to warm up the frozen copies of a smile on her customers' face, not so wide it would seem forced or, even worse, scare them away.

The door to the lockers swings wide open and Uraraka steps in with bouncy steps, closing it again with a small pirouette. "Break time!" she declares as she stretches her hands behind her back. She catches Momo practicing her smile in the mirror and chuckles, "Boss, you already know everybody loves you here."

"Please, Uraraka, it's Momo, or Creati, if you wish" she stresses her name, turning to face her coworker with a look that, Momo hopes, conveys how deeply she cares about this. She doesn't like people at work calling her Yaoyorozu or Boss- it feels like she's their superior instead of their friend. Her parents may own the place, but A Cup of Magic's core is in its family-like atmosphere, where rankings should be inexistent.

"Calling you Momo while you call me Uraraka feels unfair," the woman fake-pouts, and Momo needs to constrain herself to not pinch her cheeks. Though she's never called her by her first name, Momo feels comfortable around the girl with a gentle smile and uplifting words for anybody. Perhaps that's the secret to her popularity with their young customers- children take a special liking to her.

"Then I'll call you Ochako. Is that better?"

"Perfect," she grins with those adorable dimples and Momo stops her hands before she can do anything impolite. "Now go get them, Momo!" Uraraka- Ochako says and gives her a thumbs up.

The door- if all the post-its and photos taped onto it still allow you to recognize it as such- leads to Momo's favourite place, where her favourite people chit-chat behind the counter, where the steam of freshly brewed coffee tickles everyone's faces and where people take refugee from the cold November.

As soon as she steps into the yellow light of the shop and the smell of coffee and tea feels her lungs, Momo catches herself smiling naturally, and her fears of not rising up to the job vanish as fast as the pain in her lower back- definitely caused by hovering over the microscope for too long.

"Need a hand, Sugarman?" Momo asks as soon as she steps behind the bar, scanning the shop for customers yet to be served. It's still early- the crowd usually forms around 4 p.m., when students pour into the store like waves at high tide.

He looks up from the cake he's frosting and smiles. "Yeah. Can you deliver this to table 13? They've already gotten their drinks," he assures her. Not that he needed to- Sato is the most dedicated barista, and he never fails to deliver a perfectly brewed coffee with a sweet note scribbled on the cup in his artsy handwriting. Saying that the customers love him is an understatement.

Momo glances at his work of art and bites her tongue to keep from licking her lips. "You've outdone yourself," he tells him and it's not flattery. If there is something the customers love even more than Sato, it's his cakes. The Yaoyorozus offered making him their permanent chef, but he humbly declined the offer, saying he wanted to start his own cake shop one day. Momo promised him they'll sign a contract as soon as he succeeds.

"Do you want to try it?" he asks, pointing to the refrigerator. "I saved a piece for you."

"Thank you." Momo's smile widens even more- Sugarman lives up to his name, both on the inside and on the outside.

As soon as Sato is done arranging the M&Ms into a smile, Momo picks it up and heads towards table 13. Unlike the number would suggest, they are very lucky to be sitting there. The coffee shop has a policy of making every customer happy, and a legacy of making them believe in the magic of its name. That's why they deliver a cake on the house to table 13 every day, to erase the bad luck and change the superstition.

She places the carefully decorated cheesecake on the coffee table and offers the female student sitting there a heartfelt beam. She plugs out a earphone and looks at Momo curiously.

"This is a token of appreciation from A Cup of Magic," Momo politely tells the girl. "Thank you for choosing our shop today."

"But I didn't order-" she starts, but stops herself when she eyes the cake. Unlike Momo, she doesn't stop herself from licking her upper lip. "I won't complain." When her eyes meet Momo's, she doesn't escape the spark in them.

"I hope you enjoy!" she tells her, and means every bit of it.

As the barista makes her way back to the counter, stopping every now and then when a customer asks Creati for a refill or when someone wishes her a good day, Momo wonders what she was anxious about. Putting a smile on people's faces is what her job is about- and it's what she loves doing the most.

From the corner of her eye, she catches a guy sitting across from the lucky cake winner and faintly picks up the words "table 13" and "lucky", and fights back a grin- the shop has managed an association between unlikely terms again. The legend of the lucky 13 has spread widely among their customers, so the staff changes the table numbers each day, sticking a plan on the wall to ease the baristas' job- and to keep the mystery surrounding the lucky table.

When Momo finally makes it back to the counter, a line has begun to shape itself and Sato's working on the orders. Her pace picks up as she slides behind the counter with a kick to her step. Any other worker might have sighed at the load of work awaiting them, but Momo feels giddy and raises a wide smile as she asks the first customer for their order.

A Cup of Magic has extended far beyond anyone's expectations. What once started as a small coffee shop next to the university was now one of biggest brand names in Japan, with over 10 shops in Tokyo and branches in almost every city.

This first shop holds a special place in Momo's heart- it's the spring of all magic, and also the place where she grew up. As a toddler, she ran between the feet of the older baristas, nagging them with questions about the drinks they were so effortlessly crafting, mixing tea to her heart's content and brewing new combinations each day. Perhaps that was the whole reason why she took an interest in chemistry in the first place.

And then there was this- talking with university students, stressed by exams and worldly worries, offering them a cup of cappuccino and a few kind words. Iida often offered to trade places with her, fearing that this shop in particular was too much for Momo to handle, on top of her lab work, but she always turned him down. She wanted to be a part of the magic- and if this place needed her, she wasn't going to abandon it.

Whenever exams were near, the amount of caffeine the students ingested seemed to double. With Christmas near, it tripled. Two baristas weren't enough for that hectic time of the year, and Momo was more than happy to offer her services four times a week, in the evening.

"I'm back!" Urara-Ochako chirps as she strolls to the grinder and scoops the cup out of Momo's hands. "I can handle the Molten Enigma better than anyone." She accompanies her claim with a confident smirk as she pulls her sleeves up and glides the milk bottle across the table.

Momo could grow used to this- Uravity jumbling up with the ingredients as if gravity didn't hold a stick in front of her.

"No sugar please!" the customer reminds the barista and Ochako flashes him a reassuring smile. Momo guesses her dimples are a kind of magic too, because the customer's features relax into a content look and he seems to forget all about the quiz he was just complaining to Momo about.

There are all types of people in line: an elderly woman who worries about Momo's health all the time; a mother with a kid that tries her hardest not to buy all the sweets Sato has put on display; a guy who seems like the only thing he wants to do is sleep but buys the strongest coffee they have. Momo finds it baffling how many people are drawn into their shop, and she can't help but feel fuzzy when the tickling steam of their beverages urges them to smile.

The cold air blows in whenever somebody enters, but the melody of the wind chimes makes up for it. For every drop of spilt water there's a customer that laughs and waves it off with a simple hand gesture; for every curse muttered there are ten words of praise ringing in the air, and Momo guesses this is what magic is all about: trying to rewrite the mishaps of everyday life.

Momo's shaking the cinnamon jar over a smile-shape on top of a Vanila Cosmos when Sato whispers next to her ear, "He's here again."

Momo smiles coyly and hands the beverage to the woman who shivers when her frozen fingertips touch the cup. She quirks an eyebrow and asks, "Who?"

"The kid who doesn't smile." Sato looks somewhere in the line, and Momo follows his look to notice a boy with red and white hair waiting for his turn. He doesn't seem to wear any sort of readable expression, though he's a bit too far for her to make out anything except the strange hair colours. She finds them surprising, but not aesthetically displeasing.

"Are you talking about the heterochromatic one?" Ochako asks as well, making her way back behind the counter with a dozen empty plates, laughing at gravity yet again. "He's immune to Sugarman's sweets!" she says in a hushed voice, as if they're speaking of the world's greatest criminal. "His notes don't even get him to smile!" she adds, outraged and admirant of his feat at the same time.

"That's impossible," Momo tells them as she jots down another order. "No one can resist them."

"Maybe he's a robot," Ochako thoughtfully notes, and she's completely serious.

"He was already a regular when I started working here," Sato adds, stealing glances as the man advances in line.

Momo's brow furrows. His coming there means he likes the place, right? But still, she thinks to herself while handing Uravity another Molten Enigma, who can resist the kindness of Sato? She's never been directly taking his order, but she has caught glimpses of him every time she filled in for someone, now that she thinks about it. He's always secluded himself in a corner, enveloped by the fragrance of his green tea and immersed in reading a pile of never-ending papers. Studying, Momo supposes.

When Sato comes to the front to take his order, Momo's hand moves before her mind processes her actions. "Let me handle him," she says when her coworker shots her a curious look. She isn't sure why, but the man now waiting to have his order taken intrigues her. A part of her is worried by his lack of interest in the coffee. Another part of her takes this as a challenge- a person that has to be won over by the cafe.

Momo braces herself for the stranger's reaction as she steps to the counter. She looks at the half and half guy, searching for his eyes. If she could catch a glimpse of them, she could maybe read something- anything- in them. Momo herself isn't too sure what she's waiting for- perhaps a clue, or the faint hint of a smile lingering dormant behind his pupils.

To her dismay, his eyes are buried under his white and red bangs, safe from her prying eyes. "Good evening! What would you like?" she asks in her usual tone.

He doesn't even jolt when he hears a female voice instead of Sato's. "Green tea," he says in a monotonous voice, refusing to use the name bestowed by the staff upon this drink, Calm Blitz.

"Size?" Creati asks, trying to meet his eyes again. She fails.

"Grande."

"I noticed you often come here, Mr...?"

"Shouto," he says in the same ho-hum tone and she writes the name on the cup, ticking the box corresponding to his order as she continues the idle chattering.

"You seem to come here to study- do you like the ambiance in the shop?" Momo only picks up a faint hum in response and decides he must be shy. "I honestly love it here. Everybody is nice and warm and there's just- it feels magical, wouldn't you agree?"

She hands Uraraka the cup, and when she turns back to her customer- Shouto- she notices him looking at her. His bangs have fallen onto the bridge of his nose, revealing heterochromatic eyes, just like his hair. Beautiful, mesmerising eyes, in which Momo would have lost herself if not for the sound the coins made on the table.

"Do you believe in magic?" he asks while she's putting the money away and typing the receipt. Now that he dropped the lackluster tone, Momo is able to appreciate to modulation in his low voice. Fruity and husky, almost guttural but not quite. It almost sends shivers down her spine.

When she whips her head up to hand him the receipt, his eyes are glued on hers, waiting for the response. "Not in that way," she admits with a smile, tearing her gaze from his and allowing it to trek the shop. "I believe in everyday magic, like looking outside to see a shooting star or meeting a friend randomly in the supermarket." She believes in the magic of this small shop that became a brand in Japan. She believes in the family away from home she found here.

When her eyes fall back on the boy, his are still lost wandering about the shelves full of spices and herbs. There is something whimsical about the way he looks at things, as if he can see more than just their form and colour. It's only when the onyx and blue eyes settle on Momo that she feels the intensity of his gaze, seemingly seeing through her, and through her ideologies and love for A Cup of Magic.

"It's nice that you still believe," he says instead of good-bye and heads to where Uravity has just called his name to pick up the drink.

Momo follows him with her eyes until he sits down and takes a thick book and some stapled papers out of his backpack, arranging them on the improvised desk.

"You made him talk!" Ochako tries whispering but almost yells in her ear instead.

Momo would like to be as enthusiastic as her friend about it, but something about the way he said his parting line makes her feel out of place. His voice was laced with sad undertones, and… envy. Perhaps she was reading too much into it- she was prone to that.

But Shouto was a mystery, and Momo was a scientist. Her destiny was to crack any mystery and bring out the truth, after all.

Well hello (again)!
I hope you have enjoyed this chapter. It serves more to introduce the cafe and its atmosphere than TodoMomo interactions themselves, but the next few chapters will be overflowing with them (and their contagious cuteness), so I hope you will stick around! This is my first BNHA work, but I love TodoMomo way too much not to pay my respects (and hopefully do them justice).
If you enjoyed it or smiled even once, let me know by leaving kudos or a comment. Your love keeps me alive and writing!
Till next time, enjoy a cup of coffee, my dear readers~