The café was my favorite spot in this insane world. Cozy vibes, good tea, and the perfect window seat to watch OP beings from every universe casually strolling by like it was no big deal. Planet busters, reality warpers, villains turned heroes—it was all just another Tuesday here.
And me? Well, I was the only ordinary human in this world. No powers, no secret strength, nothing. Just a simple girl sipping tea and minding my own business.
That was until they showed up.
At the next table sat Talk-no-Jutsu, the most popular "celebrity" in the world. And I mean celebrity. Forget movie stars or pop idols—this person was the ultimate negotiator, the living legend who could talk any villain into becoming a volunteer at a soup kitchen.
Except, well, they didn't exactly look like a celebrity. They looked... tired. Like, I-haven't-slept-in-three-months-and-my-coffee-is-cold tired.
"Urghhh…" they groaned, slumped over the table with their head buried in their arms. Except their head wasn't a head. It was just a glowing sign that said Talk-no-Jutsu in bold letters. "I can't do this anymore... Someone replace me… I just want to nap… Is that too much to ask?"
I took a sip of my tea, pretending not to eavesdrop. This was way more interesting than my usual routine.
Before I could even think of saying something, the café door slammed open. A police officer burst in, looking like they'd sprinted here from a different dimension.
"There you are!" the officer yelled, pointing at Talk-no-Jutsu like they'd just found the last cookie in the jar. "We've got an emergency! The Demon Overlord of Universe X-27 is threatening to turn all ice cream into broccoli! We need you to talk them out of it!"
Talk-no-Jutsu groaned even louder, their glowing letters flickering like a dying lightbulb. "Nooooooo... I don't wanna…" They sank further into their chair. "Why is it always me? Can't someone else do it? What about Emotional Speech Guy? Or Logic Overload Girl?"
"They're on vacation!" the officer snapped. "You're the only one left!"
At that moment, two more people barged into the café. One was a golden-armored hero who practically sparkled, and the other was a tall, brooding villain with glowing red eyes and an aura of I-listen-to-dark-ambient-playlists.
"Talk-no-Jutsu!" the hero cried, rushing to their table. "You have to come to my universe! My rival's throwing galaxies around like frisbees again, and you're the only one who can talk them down!"
"No, they're coming with me!" the villain growled, crossing their arms. "I've got a redemption arc to complete, and I need them to talk me through my daddy issues!"
Talk-no-Jutsu's letters flickered again. "Oh, for the love of—NO! I quit! I'm done! I don't want to talk to anyone anymore!"
They stood up so fast their chair toppled over. "Do you hear me? I'M RETIRED!"
The café went dead silent. Even the barista froze mid-pour, milk froth dripping onto the counter.
Before anyone could react, Talk-no-Jutsu bolted for the door, yelling, "I JUST WANT TO DRINK MY COFFEE AND CRY IN PEACE!"
The police officer, the hero, and the villain all scrambled after them, yelling things like:
"Wait! You're the only one who can save us!"
"You promised to fix my rivalry!"
"Come back! My redemption arc depends on you!"
The whole group spilled out into the street, turning it into a scene straight out of a slapstick comedy. Talk-no-Jutsu ran like their life depended on it, dodging OP beings left and right. At one point, they even vaulted over a bench with surprising athleticism.
"UAHHHHGH!" they wailed. "SOMEONE, PLEASE REPLACE ME! I DON'T WANT TO BE FAMOUS ANYMORE!"
I watched the chaos unfold, taking another sip of tea. Around me, the other café patrons—some of the strongest beings in existence—shrugged and went back to their pastries.
"Well, that was dramatic," I muttered to myself.
The barista, now cleaning up the mess of spilled milk, nodded in agreement. "Happens every week. You'd think they'd hire an assistant or something."
"Yeah," I said, leaning back in my chair. "But hey, at least it's entertaining."
The sound of their cries grew fainter as the chase moved further down the street. For now, peace returned to the café. I raised my cup in a silent toast to Talk-no-Jutsu, wherever they ended up.
Hang in there, buddy. You've got this. Probably.