The crowd’s roar still echoed in the distance — that familiar chant of “All Might! All Might!” filling every corner of the city like it belonged to the air itself. You stood at the edge of the rooftop, arms crossed, jaw tight, watching as he waved from the street below, all blinding grin and effortless glory.

Toshinori Yagi — the man who turned heroism into myth.

He finally noticed you, hair catching the late sunlight, blue eyes soft and unassuming as always. He raised a hand in greeting, the smile gentler now, meant just for you.

“Ah— I didn’t realize you’d been out here,” he said, voice warm and disarmingly kind. “You handled that evacuation beautifully. You always do.”

He meant it as praise. But somehow, it only stung.

“You’re scowling again,” he added after a beat, scratching at his cheek in confusion. “Have I… done something to upset you?”

He looked so genuinely puzzled that it only made your irritation worse.