cw: attempted robbery, fighting, mentions of tommy's death, exile, and his mental trauma

please tell me if there's any more!!!

===

, this morning was as peaceful as usual. A soft lofi playlist played throughout the cafe as orange lights casted a warm glow on the interior, creating a comfortable, light atmosphere. Hot coffee brews filled the air with delicious smells, mixing in with small baked goods and snacks on display cases and stands. The coldness of February's snow made the pleasantly warm temperature of the shop all the better. Adding the extra greenery in the corners and extra spaces, along with smaller, cottage-like details, and it seemed like a home.

Tommy looked outside the windows of the cafe, watching people walk along. He soon moved on to watering the foliage nearby with a watering can and a sigh.

His mind worked into overdrive as his body hummed with barely-contained energy. Tommy wasn't made for working slowly like this. He was used to fast-paced actions, to war, to constantly thinking about strategies and never stopping. But for now, he'd make do with what he has, especially because he probably can't get into U.A. anyway. The teen doesn't know how to create an identity that would say that he's fifteen when he's on the verge of seventeen -- Tubbo isn't here, and who'd accept a homeless seventeen year old into their school?

When the owner -- Tari, a lady whom Tommy found to be pretty chill -- had offered him the full-time job, Tommy hadn't hesitated to take it with the previous question in mind. This was the same cafe he'd constantly use for free wifi regardless, and having a job there would make things easier. Especially so when the regulars had helped him with his Japanese, so he's able to speak and write the basics, whilst with an accent and with shaky characters respectively. They had also taught him basic Japanese etiquette and more about the world around him. (He's even learning JSL!) In turn, Tommy would help them with English, do bits of work around the cafe, listen to them rant and give them advice until he was where he was now.

Three other things had appeared over the past month*, one being his eyepatch. The hand-made item was a slightly-desaturated navy blue and rimmed with gold near the edges. One of the regulars, a woman with marriage issues, had asked him what his hobbies were after he gave advice to sort her problems out. When he mentioned he knew how to sew, the next day she had came by and gave him several sewing materials, including a container to place it in and some fabric to use. He'd made the eyepatch soon after and declared her the only woman ever. **

Anyway, Tommy had it for a reason.

One day, as he washed his clothes in Takoda, he'd seen his reflection for the first time. Tommy had thought he'd looked the same before Dream had.. before the incident, just with a bit of lingering numbness where his injuries were, so he hadn't bothered truly looking at his face. But looking at himself... his left eye had changed.

What was once another sapphire eye was a texture error: four squares where his iris should've been, two squares, one on the top left and the other on the bottom right, a strikingly hot pink next to the other two that were a dark black. There was no pupil, yet Tommy could see just fine. In addition, there was a thin meandering scar surrounding his eye in a mishapen circle. Unfortunately, it was large enough to be noticable -- Tommy had wondered just how long the changes had been there.

(When the teen had asked the next day, everyone told him they thought it was an accident from his quirk drawback, and that both his weird eye and his scar had been there ever since he came in the cafe. He would've tried to get colored eye contacts instead of an eyepatch, but he didn't know if they'd work and who sells them in the area.)

The next thing was something he delighted in: a weapon. More specifically, a steel, collapsable bo staff that Tommy had found in Takoda that wouldn't be as deadly or threatening than the Axe of Peace. If he were attacked, he didn't want to become a criminal by using the chopper, so this was pretty fucking pogchamp.

It was a bit rusted after being constantly sloshed by the sea waves for so long, but! With a bit of water, borrowed baking soda and time, it was as good as new! The thing was light, easy to maneuver and fun to play with, so Tommy had kept it. Now on the weekends due to working on the weekdays, he uses his time to move around Takoda's rough terrain with the staff like a vaulting pole, familiarizing himself with ithe weapont. Later on he started to work on agility and speed when it came to attacking by throwing several cans into the air and trying to hit them all. One of the regulars had a pitching machine that they planned to sell -- Tommy had planned on getting it to help him train.

Speaking of machines! The blond had also found a pristine radio in the middle of a broken tire, and it still worked which was fucking pogchamp! The audio's a bit grainy, but that didn't matter. He finally has something to keep his thoughts from going awry. (He'll never admit it either, but Tommy regularly listens to Present Mic's radio show at night. He's taken a slight liking to the man, maybe due to how they're possible kindred spirits...)

The final thing, more of a realization than anything, was how Tommy didn't... miss the Dream SMP as much as he should. Tubbo, Techno, Wilbur, Phil... he does miss them, but it's different now.

In this weird server, there are no mobs. There are villains instead, but there are heroes too. People who save others, who rise up and create safety when there isn't any. There is no need to constantly be on-guard, or carry a weapon wherever, or be forced to learn how to fight as a child, because almost-always a hero will be there to help. Of course, the system is heavily flawed from what Tommy knows, but its better than knowing that the only one that can help a person in dangerous times is themself -- better than losing all hope entirely.

In Takoda, Tommy can curse as much as he want, scream his lungs out, run around, act childish and feral -- and no one will reprimand him. No one will tell him to shut up, or attack him, or remind him to not act like so because there is a war, a revolution he has to be in. He has no preceding reputation of making mistakes that cost him his lives and so many others. There are no regulations, restrictions, or any expectations -- he can be a child for once.

In Tari's Coffee, he doesn't have to think of betrayal and trust. The customers don't prod into his past or mind his cursing and his flinches, and in turn he doesn't mind listening. The job itself is therapeutic and nice, even with the urge to keep doing something. He just has to brew coffee, man the cash register, make light snacks, collect tips and clean. No training, no warfare, no strategizing and grudges. In addition the constant movement and its distractions help on low days when he can barely force himself up. Greeting the customers and talking to them is just an extra bonus.

As much as he doesn't want to admit, Japan seemed more like a home than the Dream SMP. Because the Dream SMP is a constant war-zone, where any wrong step and he'll be ripped apart by the very people he called friends -- in Japan, he almost feels safe.

Tommy isn't too sure how to feel about that. That's a problem for future-him, anyway.

And it's when he's finally stopped recollecting and sorting his shit out when a sense of dread slams his gut, a shiver rolling down his spine.

Tommy pauses on his way to a table, taking a glance outside as his gut feeling worsens. He almost groans -- it's eight in the morning on a fucking Tuesday, he doesn't want to deal with this right now.

Tommy knows to trust his gut more than anything, so he hastens his movements when he sets a large cup of black coffee on a table, next to a tired, haggard-looking man with a grey scarf. With a spin on his heel, the blond speed-walks to the front counter. He puts his (not shaking, no) hands in the pockets of his black apron as he stands behind the cash register once more. His eye is pinned to the front door, unwavering and sharp.

A minute passes, if he's counted the sixty ticks of a distant clock in the cafe. Tommy brushes some of his blonde hair from his eyes and keeps waiting.

The windows shatter. Glass explodes, shards spilling on the wooden floor as customers scream. Shuffling and chaos follow when they scramble further into the cafe, staring fearfully and still crying as three people clad in black walk in. Two hold empty sacks while the other raises a hand. Rapidly, the glass fragments on the ground shape-shift, combining and molding together to create a long, translucent knife. It goes right into the leader's hands.

Oh my Prime. He expected this but Tommy still scowls; who does a fucking robbery this early?! And in plain sight, too!

The robber in front of the other two, presumably the leader of the trio, starts talking. But Tommy's already fed up, having turned around and shuffling things in a cabinet. Distantly, the blond teen can hear them addressing him -- something about stopping where he was and getting the money -- but he's too busy pulling out the rest of the thickly-knitted rope. Tari used it for aesthetic shit around the cafe and stored the leftovers; he never thought he'd have a use for it until now.

"Hey," the lead robber barks again as Tommy turns around and casually begins to unknot the long cord. There's a couple more glass knives hovering in the air. His lackeys have stopped shoving things in their bags to look at the blond. One of them is playing with strings -- probably their quirk. "I told you to get the money or I'll kill you!"

The teen gave a snort, setting the untied bundle of rope on the ground after moving ahead of the front counter. He puts his hands behind his back, flicking his wrist. "As if I'll listen to you, you fucking bitch. Who starts a robbery this early? Shitty no-lives like you, that's who. Also, make better threats, alright — people threaten me with death too much."

The robber looked at him with horror. "What--"

Tommy pounced forwards, ducking low enough to dodge a knife. He feinted to the right with his foot, distracting the leader to pull his bo staff out of his inventory and extend it with a quick click! Transitioning with ease and adjusting his balance, the blond slammed it into the robber's left side -- or where the liver should be.

He'd found out this little trick during one of Techno's sparring lessons when the man had used it on him, during Pogtopia. After Tommy had stopped writhing in pain, the piglin-hybrid explained that a hit to the liver was an easy way to defeat a foe when he was too lazy to fight or in a hurry. That due to it being the center of blood circulation, or some shit like that, it would cause a shock when hit and make them go into excruciating pain.

"In the language of violence," he said, "we don't have to play nice." Thank Prime Tommy remembered the move -- he doubted he could forget anyway, with how much Techno had literally beat it into him.

As expected, the robber crumbled. He choked out a strangled noise before stumbling to the side and falling to the floor, knocked out cold. The glass knifes fell with him, fragmenting once more with an ear-grating shatter. Some shards had shot out and grazed Tommy's skin, igniting fear because no no no no Dream was here and he's back in the prison cell and Dream's killing him DREAM'S KILLING HIM, so he quickly crammed some remaining bread pieces from his inventory into his mouth. Thankfully, the cuts started to heal, very faint scars in their places.***

"Fuck you, bitch," he muttered. Tommy turned to the closest robber, who was near the side of the front counter. Said robber was literally shaking, their hands dropping their sack as they morphed into crab-like appendages. "I-I'll kill you!" They stuttered.

Too late for that. Grabbing the rope on the ground with the edge of his staff, the blond held it with one hand and ran forwards. The robber lifted their arms up to their head in an X-formation. However, that just made a surefire strike to their solar plexus all the more easier to do.

So Tommy did. He rammed the edge of his weapon into the guy's solar plexus, remotely hearing them take a large, sharp intake of air. The teen took this moment to spin the robber around, using the rope to tie their arms tightly behind their back.

Well, he would have. A long, grey scarf had done it first, tying the robber into a bundle. Someone wrenched them behind the teen with the scarf. Tommy spun and scrambled back, watching with awe as the haggard-looking man that he'd served before this shitty incident quickly knocked the robber out. The last robber was already tied up with their own quirk — he only noticed when the man (hero?) literally dragged them over.

"Holy shit," The teen whispered, putting his staff and leftover rope in his inventory. He stared as the man walked towards him, taking a small container out and dropping some liquid into his eyes beforehand. (Phil had called those eyedrops, hadn't he?)

"Are you hurt anywhere?" The raven-haired man drawled lowly. Tommy flinched, jerking back to see the man directly in front of him. "Sorry," the blond said, "I'm fine."

The man frowned. Tommy raised his arms up, "See? The glass cuts are fucking gone — I'm fine, alright?"

One of the customers must've called the police while they were fighting because the blond finally recognized the sirens flashing outside. There were a few officers checking in on people; one of them called out, "Eraserhead? We need you over here for a bit." The tired man grumbled before turning around and moving towards the officer's voice.

Tommy blinked. Eraserhead? Not the weirdest name he's heard, but okay.

As people moved around him, Tommy went to put the remaining rope away. He drifted, his hands moving on their own as he was thinking about the (although short) fight he had.

Tari's Coffee is definitely a place precious to him. It holds many memories and has helped him so much in this strange server — this strange universe, really. And he knows he protects everything close to him, fighting for it with tooth and nail, so him defeating at least one of the robbers made sense.

But. The more Tommy thought about it, the more the thought that he wanted to protect the people made sense, too, even if most of them were strangers. Their things were being stolen by petty thieves and if he or Eraserhead hadn't been there, they might've gotten away with it.

Tommy had been a hero. For the smallest amount of time, he'd been a hero.

And it had felt good. Fighting and helping and saving — despite his trauma of pain, of death and war and battles and blood, he had felt good.

In the Dream SMP, there were no heroes. He himself isn't one. Of course, no one is entirely black or white because everyone's flawed in some way, even in this server. But the difference is that no one had even tried to save him when he was his worst, when he needed a hero — exile is a prime example of that.

And there are heroes in this weird server, but most of them focus on bigger things. Larger incidents, louder events, huge crimes. They zone in on fame and money, fortune and attention, showing off their quirks and seeing who's better on hero rankings to brag. The majority care about nothing but themselves.

Tommy makes a decision, as he listens to the thankfulness of the remaining customers and answers the questions of the police.

He isn't a hero. Yet he'll play the role so that the victims of crimes away from the spotlight can have one.

===

a/n:

*tommy came here in early january, a few months before izuku starts his training, and atm it's mid-late febuary. 'm basing the time based on an old fanmade reddit post on the bnha timeline (by u/chaotickairos), so,,,

** reference to TommyInnit's unbeatable method of avoiding sudden death by eneli on ao3

*** the minecraft mechanic when your hunger bar is full and you start to heal is still there, its just tommy's inventory's appearance thats glitched

ALSO??!!?!??!! OVER 200 VIEWS AND 20 VOTES (as of when im writing this on 7/26/21) ??!!??!! PEOPLE REALLY READ THIS. AND THINK ITS GOOD. OH

THANK YOU !!! SO VERY MUCH !!!!!!!!!

also: eyepatch art! this was what i imagined when describing it

finally, i'm basing tommy of of the dsmp wiki, tvtropes and summarized lore vids because im Not watching hours of vods SO please forgive me if he's very ooc because he really is imo ,,,,