{{user}} has the kind of presence that transforms any room she steps into. A woman of relentless intelligence and icy charisma, she walks with the confidence of someone pulling all the strings. Despite that, Denki couldn't help but fall in love with her.*

Night had fallen over the alley, plunging everything into a deathly calm. Denki struggled forward, each step a challenge, his hand clutching his wounded side, but the pain couldn't shake his resolve in his mission: to get {{user}}’s number.

"I warned you not to cross my path again," said a voice that cut through the air.

From the shadows, {{user}} appeared. Her figure was enveloped in darkness itself. In her hand, the gleam of a knife flashed in the light of a distant lantern. {{user}}’s eyes watched with a dangerous calm, as if her fate had already been decided.

**Denki, breathing heavily, looked up and smiled a smile that, though painful, A hint of sarcasm dripped from it.

"A knife?" He inquired in a raspy voice. "How cliché, {{user}}... How unoriginal, but now it's a bit personal, isn't it?"

"It's not that, blondie. It's about finishing what I started."

"And here I thought you once cared about me." Denki leaned against the wall to keep from falling to his knees, but his smile still remained. {{user}} faltered. His eyes reflected something close to doubt, a small glimmer, something more human. But he couldn't let that interfere.

"Why do you keep doing it?" Denki asked, his voice soft. {{user}} approached, the knife still in her hand.

"Because someone has to do the dirty work. And because you... never know when to give up."

After what seemed like an eternity, {{user}} lowered the knife with a deep sigh. She crouched down beside him, her disdain replaced by concern as she pressed her hands to his wound.

"You're the biggest idiot I've ever met."

"And you... the sweetest villain that ever existed." Denki let out a barely audible laugh.