Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was a quiet Saturday afternoon, the kind of day you’d normally spend lying on your couch, eating chips, and contemplating the life choices that led to your current predicament. Today, however, you were alone. Completely, utterly, painfully alone. 

The house was quiet. Too quiet. It was the kind of silence that makes you hyper-aware of your own existence, like you’re the last person alive in a zombie apocalypse, except the only thing undead in your vicinity was your motivation. 

You paced the living room, glancing at the clock. No Saiki. No Nendo. No Kaidou. Not even Hairo who had helped you with the groceries the other day. Nobody to distract you. Nothing to do. 

Your strange, over-cluttered house echoed with the sound of your pacing. You were bored. Monumentally bored. And then, like a lightning bolt out of nowhere, you remembered: 

You had a mission. 

"Oh, right!” you exclaimed, slapping your forehead. "I was supposed to do something here! What was it again? Crack someone’s cold, dead heart? Who even writes this stuff?”

With no one to witness your revelation (except maybe the smug black cat you were sure was hiding somewhere), you decided it was time to dig out the manual. It had been stuffed into a drawer since Day One, ignored in favor of snacks and figuring out the anime universe you’d stumbled into. 

You rushed to the messy desk in the corner and started digging through the pile of random anime knick-knacks you’d somehow accumulated since landing in this world. Somewhere under the keychain of a vaguely familiar Naruto character and a questionable body pillow of Zoro (don’t ask), you found it. 

You plopped onto your living room floor, pulling the slightly glowing book out of the drawer. On the cover, in bold, unnecessarily dramatic letters, it read: 

"Mission Manual for Interdimensional Heart Warmers (Beginner’s Edition)"

Flipping it open, you were immediately greeted by a voice. 

"Ah, finally decided to read it , have we?”

You froze, glancing around the room. "Who said that?”

"Are you joking? It hasn't even been ten chapters since we last spoke and you already forgot about me? Looks like you're settling in well.”

You squinted at the book and then scoffed, realization hitting you. "Well, look who decided to speak up after five chapters!” you groaned. "I thought you were supposed to narrate every single action I take here?”

The narrator chuckled, it's voice ominously echoing in your ears. "Your poor sorry life isn't my only priority. Besides, while I was here, I decided to survey the area a bit. Truly a sight to behold.”

Your eye twitched. "So you were on a vacation while I was blending in with the cast?”

"Correct!” Yeah, that figures.

"But I was doing it plainly out of my own curiosity. What if you stumbled upon a crater of radioactive liquid and I wasn't there to help you out?”

You perked up. "There's a crater filled with radioactive water?”

"No,” heh, of course there's not. "But there's an active volcano.”

Your face went pale. "... What?”

"Relax! This is a rom-com!”

Somehow, that doesn't put you at ease. "Right.“

"Now, are we going to address the fact that it’s been weeks since you got here, and you’ve done nothing about your mission?” the voice jumped from one ear to the other and you sweat-dropped.

Silence.

"Truly an idiot at work.”

You pouted. "I’ve been busy! Adjusting to this world is hard, you know. You try suddenly living in an anime with strange people and walking plot devices!” 

The narrator sighed dramatically. "Yes, yes. Poor you, stuck in a world where everything revolves around slapstick comedy and over-the-top reactions. Truly tragic. Now, can we get to the mission?”

"Fine,” you grumbled, flipping to the first page. The text was unnecessarily flashy, with sparkling borders and Comic Sans font. 

【Mission: Thaw the cold heart of a certain individual and bring warmth to their soul.】

You groaned, flashbacks from your first day here storming into your mind. "This is so vague! A 'certain individual'? Who? Can’t you just tell me?”

"I could,” the narrator said smugly, "but where’s the fun in that? Besides, you’re supposed to figure it out. That’s why it’s a mission and not a lazy Sunday chore. I am here just for the commentary.”

You appeared in two chapters so far... You rolled your eyes and scanned the rest of the page. It had bullet points. 

You had to squint at the over usage of comical and elegant fonts. "Seriously? That’s it? No hints?”

"Well,” the narrator drawled, "you have encountered a few candidates, haven’t you? Why don’t you use your sparkling intellect and make a guess?”

You tapped your chin thoughtfully. "Okay, let’s see. There’s Saiki—he’s totally aloof. But he doesn’t seem cold, just... perpetually done with life. Then there’s Kaido, but he’s way too... Maybe... Takahashi?”

The narrator snorted. "Takahashi? The guy so bland even the animators forgot to give him distinguishing features besides his hair? That Takahashi?”

"Hey! Don’t knock him. He’s mysterious! Maybe he’s hiding some tragic backstory,” you argued. 

The narrator’s laughter echoed through the room. "Sure, and maybe he’s also a secret prince from a long-lost kingdom. Let’s not kid ourselves, [name].”

You glared at the book. "If you’re so smart, why don’t you tell me?” 

"Because I’m here to narrate , not hand you answers on a silver platter. Honestly, if you’d spent half as much time investigating as you have eating snacks and turning this place into a modern art squat house, you’d probably be done by now.”

"Okay, fine!” you huffed, slamming the book shut. "I’ll start investigating. But if it is Takahashi, you owe me an apology.”

"Deal,” the narrator said, clearly amused. "But let’s not hold our breath on that one.”

Determined now, you stood up and marched toward the door. Somewhere out there, someone with a frozen heart was waiting for you to thaw it. And whether it was Saiki, Takahashi, or someone else entirely, you were going to crack the case—eventually. 

Probably. 

But first, snacks. 

You had a long journey ahead of you, and no one solves mysteries on an empty stomach. 

Yeah, you totally got distracted that day and just went around the town, buying unnecessary stuff and food you're sure you won't even need or eat, but since you have the money, why not enjoy the luxury of spending without worrying about the price at all?

You went home, feeling content that day. You even finally managed to make an empty guestroom into Cat's own personal palace for which he was immensely thankful and stayed holled up there for the rest of the day while you just watched the TV, eating chips.

"The mission...” you muttered, crunching on a chip for dramatic emphasis.

"Can wait!” and so, you ended your day without any progress at all.

The next morning, you stuffed the mission manual into your backpack and marched to school with newfound determination. If you were going to find the person whose heart needed thawing, you needed the narrator’s “help.” And by help, you meant its constant barrage of sarcasm and unsolicited opinions. 

"Do you really think lugging the manual around is going to solve your problems?” the narrator grumbled as you walked. "You look like a kid carrying a cheat sheet to a test they didn’t study for.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the stares from passersby as you muttered under your breath. "I need it and you to guide me, remember? What if I walk past the person and miss my chance?” 

"Trust me, you’re not going to miss them. If they’re in your class, they’re probably one of the louder weirdos.” 

"That doesn’t narrow it down!” you hissed. 

Arriving at school, you slipped into your seat, scanning the room with the intensity of a detective in a crime drama. Your classmates, oblivious to your internal turmoil, went about their morning routines. 

"Alright, let’s start with Saiki,” you whispered, leaning slightly toward him. He sat stoically in his seat, expression unreadable as usual. 

"Ah, yes, the human brick wall,” the narrator chimed. "Go ahead, warm that icy demeanor with your... whatever it is you do.” 

You frowned. "He’s probably not it. He doesn’t even talk to anyone. How am I supposed to ‘thaw his heart’ if I don’t even know if he has one?” 

The narrator chuckled. "You’ll need more than warm intentions. Maybe a flamethrower.” 

Your gaze drifted to Hairo. "What about him?” 

"Absolutely not,” the narrator said firmly. "If anything, you’d need to freeze that guy’s heart to make him tolerable.” 

"True,” you admitted. 

Next, you considered Kaidou, who was passionately explaining something about the “Dark Reunion” to anyone who would listen. 

"Him?” 

"Do you really want to be the person responsible for amplifying that level of delusion?” the narrator asked. 

You sighed. "Good point.”

Teruhashi sparkled in the corner, as radiant and intimidating as ever. You didn’t even bother asking about her. Plus, you're pretty sure this isn't LGBTQ+ type of rom-com.

"Smart move,” the narrator said approvingly. "Her heart’s already plenty warm. Too warm, really. Like a supernova. Also rotten to the core.” yeah, you could tell.

"What about Kuboyasu? He's been here for a while and didn't debut in any chapter yet.” the narrator hummed, glancing over to the purple haired kid who solemnly sat in his chair, looking quite lonely.

"That guy is a delinquent at heart. Doubt he'd be interested in romance.”

You groaned and slapped your cheeks, trying to find new determination to keep this charade going. "Well, there's Toritsuka in the class next door, but the last time I spoke to him, he asked me what is the color of my underwear...”

The narrator paused, before speaking. "... And what did you tell him?”

"That I am not wearing any.”

"You're really an idiot.”

Finally, your eyes landed on Takahashi. He sat quietly at his desk, staring into the middle distance like an NPC waiting for their trigger event. 

"Okay,” you whispered. "What about him?” 

The narrator’s laughter echoed in your head. "Still clinging to the Takahashi theory, huh? Alright, knock yourself out.” 

You hesitated, then approached Takahashi with what you hoped was a friendly smile. "Hey, Takahashi, right? How’s it going?” 

He blinked at you, looking mildly surprised that someone was addressing him. "Uh, fine, I guess.” 

"Great!” you said, trying to sound casual. "So, uh, do you ever feel... cold? Like, emotionally?” 

He stared at you like you’d just asked him if he was secretly a lizard person. "What?” 

"Nothing! Never mind!” you said quickly, retreating to your seat as the narrator howled with laughter. 

"Smooth. Really subtle. I’m sure he didn’t think that was weird at all.” 

"Shut up,” you muttered, sinking into your chair. 

Saiki watched and listened to the whole... Strange interaction between you and Takahashi with bewilderment. So you had finally lost it, he thought to himself, watching you slump yourself onto the desk, defeated and muttering something under your nose.

He quickly peeked inside your mind only to be met with what sounded like slowed down and reverbed version of 'Macarena' and gave up on figuring out whatever possed you today.

The rest of the day was a blur of failed attempts and awkward interactions. You tried to subtly gauge everyone’s emotional temperature, but the narrator’s running commentary made it nearly impossible to focus. 

"Yumehara’s heart doesn’t need thawing; it’s already melted into a puddle of desperation.” 

"Mera? Unless you’re planning to thaw her passion for food, I’d steer clear.”

By the time the final bell rang, you were no closer to your goal. 

"Face it,” the narrator said smugly as you trudged home. "You have no idea what you’re doing.” 

"I’m just getting started,” you retorted. 

"Sure you are. Keep telling yourself that.” 

You gritted your teeth, determined to prove it wrong. Tomorrow was a new day, and you weren’t going to give up. 

Even if it meant enduring more of the narrator’s snarky remarks. 

The next day, you made what you considered a bold move. After spending hours deliberating, you approached Takahashi during lunch break and invited him on a date. To your surprise, and slight dismay, he accepted with a shrug. 

"It’s not like I have anything better to do,” he said. 

You took that as a yes. 

As you walked back to your seat, your confidence wavered. The narrator, as usual, did not hesitate to chime in. 

"You’re really doing this. You’re actually going on a date with Takahashi,” it said, incredulous. "This is a new low, even for you.” 

"He might be the one!” you whispered fiercely, clutching your bento box. 

"The one what? The one person in this school who’s more boring than math class?”

You ignored it and focused on planning. 

Across the room, Saiki Kusuo watched this exchange with growing concern. He had been trying to figure out your motives for days, but inviting Takahashi on a date? That was a new level of incomprehensible. 

Why Takahashi? Saiki thought, as he subtly turned up his telepathic senses to try reading your mind—only to be hit with the usual nonsense and chaotic noise. 

There was no logical explanation. Nobody invited Takahashi to anything. Not group projects, not birthday parties, and certainly not dates. Saiki didn’t care about what most people did, but for some reason, your decision to associate with Takahashi made him deeply uneasy. 

Saturday afternoon rolled around, and you arrived at the café where you’d agreed to meet Takahashi. You dressed up slightly—nothing too fancy—but enough to show you’d put in some effort. Casual white summer dress with small floral prints and short white heels. The narrator had been relentless all morning. 

"This is a disaster waiting to happen,” it said. "I can’t wait.” 

"Shut up. I’m trying to focus,” you muttered. 

"Oh, he will be delighted to see this, I am sure...” the narrator evily snickered, seemingly enjoying the happening. You had no idea what it meant. You doubt Takahashi would be considerate enough to compliment your appearance.

Saiki was already there, seated in the corner of the café, sipping a coffee jelly. He had no intention of intervening—just observing. He needed to know what was going through your head.  Why did you dress up to a study session with Takahashi? He can't believe you actually invited the bonehead to a date. He just can't.

It goes against all morals.

Even you must have some kind of dignity.

But he had to admit, you looked alright. Usually, you don't care about your appearance. He already seen you at what he assumes is 'your worst'.

The narrator chuckled in your ear and you had to click your tongue. "...way too deep now, aren't you?”

You ignored it and scanned the menu, cursing the green-haired enigma for making you wait from ordering the 'Giga-Maxi-Ultra-Large-Strawberry-Bomb' parfait, which you're pretty sure would give you cavities the second you'd take a single bite.

Takahashi arrived five minutes late, looking like he’d just rolled out of bed. He mumbled a quick “hey” and sat down, glancing at the menu with minimal enthusiasm. 

"So,” you began, trying to kick things off. "What do you like to do in your free time?” 

Takahashi shrugged. "Nothing much. Just chill, I guess.” 

"Chill as in, like, hang out with friends? Or chill as in sit alone in your room staring at the ceiling?” 

"Both, I guess,” he replied, already looking bored. 

Saiki pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated on your behalf. Is this really your idea of a date?

You, however, refused to let the awkwardness faze you. "Cool, cool. So, what’s your favorite movie?” 

"I don’t know. I guess... whatever’s on.” 

The narrator’s voice cut in like a heckler at a comedy show.
"Riveting. Truly, a man of depth and passion.” 

You sighed, struggling to keep the conversation alive. Takahashi wasn’t making it easy. 

"Have you ever thought about traveling? Seeing the world?” you tried. 

"Not really. Too much effort,” he replied, stirring his iced coffee with a straw. 

Saiki stared at Takahashi in disbelief. Even Nendo had more personality than this guy. He began to suspect your brain had been swapped with Kaidou’s during one of his “Dark Reunion” battles. 

After what felt like an eternity, you decided to switch gears.  "Okay, Takahashi, real talk. Do you ever feel... I don’t know, cold? Emotionally, I mean.” 

Takahashi blinked at you. "This again... What's your deal?” 

"Nothing! Just... You know, like, do you ever feel like you’re just... frozen inside? Like there’s an ice cube where your heart should be?” 

Saiki almost choked on his coffee jelly. What kind of question is that?

"Uh, no? I’m fine, I guess,” Takahashi replied, looking vaguely alarmed. "Is this a prank? Are you alright?” 

"I’m great!” you said quickly, forcing a smile. "Just curious. No reason.” 

Saiki resisted the urge to sigh out loud. He couldn’t believe he was wasting his Saturday watching this train wreck. 

After the “date,” you walked Takahashi to the bus stop. 

"Thanks for coming out,” you said, trying to sound upbeat despite the lackluster experience. 

"Sure,” he said. "See you at school, I guess.” 

As soon as he was out of sight, you groaned, slumping against a nearby lamppost. 

"Well, that was a bust,” you muttered. 

"No kidding,” the narrator said. "Let’s recap: you spent two hours trying to get emotional depth out of a human plank of wood. Shocking results: there were none.” 

"Maybe he’s not the one,” you admitted. 

"Ya think?” 

From his vantage point, Saiki finally decided he’d had enough. If this was your idea of a successful date, he wanted no part of it.  And to top it all off, you were now hugging a street lamp.

I don’t know what [name] is doing, but it’s clearly not working, he thought as he teleported back home. 

Meanwhile, you trudged back to your house, wondering if you’d ever crack the mystery of your mission—or if you’d just end up with a lot of awkward memories and a narrator that wouldn’t stop mocking you.

The next day, you sat cross-legged on your living room floor, surrounded by a chaotic pile of notes, doodles, peanuts and conspiracy-level diagrams pinned to corkboards. Strings of yarn connected various classmates' pictures (don't ask where you got those), leading to a large question mark labeled "The Cold One?" in the center. 

The narrator had been unusually quiet for the first ten minutes, which was honestly a relief. But as you leaned in closer to study the board, scribbling "Possible signs of emotional frostbite" next to Kuboyasu's picture, the silence shattered. 

"Wow,” it began, dripping with sarcasm. "It’s like watching a budget detective movie, except the detective has no leads, no suspects, and no clue what they’re doing.” 

"Shut it,” you snapped, adjusting a piece of yarn connecting Saiki’s photo to a crudely drawn snowflake. "This is serious business. Someone in this universe has a heart colder than a freezer, and I’m going to find them.” 

"Oh sure. Because nothing screams competence like spending three hours yesterday interrogating Takahashi, the human embodiment of toast. Did you learn anything, Sherlock?” 

Your hand froze over the board. "...He’s a simple guy, okay? Maybe too simple to be the cold-hearted one. It’s probably someone else.” 

The narrator cackled. "Probably?! You’re just figuring that out now? You’ve eliminated exactly one person from your list. At this rate, we’ll solve the case by the next leap year.” 

You glared at the ceiling. "You’re not helping. Why don’t you give me a hint or something?” 

"Hints are for people who don’t spend all morning making flowcharts to determine if Kaidou is emotionally unavailable because of a dark past or because he’s just a drama queen.” 

You paused, glancing at the section of the board dedicated to Kaidou. His picture was circled with question marks, and under it, you’d written “Possibly traumatized by his parents. Ask if he’s okay.” 

"...It’s valid to ask,” you muttered defensively. 

The narrator wheezed in amusement. "You think this is about trauma? Oh, sweet summer child. This isn’t that kind of anime.” 

"Okay, fine!” you huffed, flopping onto your back in frustration. "Maybe it’s not Kaidou or Takahashi or even Saiki. But someone here has a cold heart, and I’m supposed to thaw it. Why else would they drop me into this weird universe and give me that ridiculous mission manual?” 

"Do you want me to tell you the truth, or do you want me to keep making fun of you?” the narrator asked. 

"I hate you,” you replied flatly. 

"Fair enough.”

You sat up again, staring at the board, which had now become an abstract representation of your confusion. A small voice in the back of your mind whispered that maybe you were going about this the wrong way, but you quickly silenced it. 

"Okay, let’s rethink this logically,” you said, grabbing a notebook. "If I rule out the boring people, that leaves the eccentric ones. But who’s too eccentric? Nendo? No way. Saiki? Maybe, but he’s just... quiet. Teruhashi? She’s not cold—she’s terrifying. Hairo? No, he’s basically a human heater.” 

"Don’t forget your own name,” the narrator chimed in. "You might be the cold one, considering how much you emotionally scar people just by talking to them.” 

"Har har,” you deadpanned, flipping a page in your notebook. 

By noon, the coffee table was a disaster zone of crumpled paper, discarded theories, and a single, unopened bag of potato chips. You stared at your handiwork with a mix of pride and despair. 

"Maybe I need to observe people more,” you said to yourself. "What if I just follow everyone around for a week and take notes?” 

"Oh yes, that’s not creepy at all,” the narrator snorted. "Why don’t you buy a trench coat and start calling yourself ‘Detective Obvious’ while you’re at it?” 

You groaned and leaned back, rubbing your temples. "Fine, fine. I’ll... I’ll give it more time. Maybe the answer will reveal itself eventually.” 

"Now you’re thinking like someone who’s actually watched an anime before.” 

You ignored the jab and grabbed the bag of chips, tearing it open with more aggression than necessary. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were missing something important—some tiny, obvious detail that would make everything click. 

"Hey, narrator,” you said, your mouth full of chips. 

"Yeah?” 

“What if you're the cold-hearted one?” 

The silence that followed was deafening. 

Then, after a long pause: "...Okay, you're really stupid.” 

You hurled the empty chip bag at the ceiling in exasperation. I'm done...