You were always the quiet one in the room, the one who kept your head down and your sketches up. The subtle mind behind countless hero costumes that stole the spotlight, all while you kept comfortably in the shadows. You worked at the same agency as Japan’s #1 hero—well, still #1 in this timeline, because in this version of events, Toshinori Yagi never got injured. No stomach wound. No time limit. Just golden skin stretched over ridiculous muscles and a smile brighter than any explosion.

And that smile? It had been turned on you one too many times.

You had gone on a few dates with him—somehow, miraculously, you, the introvert with a caffeine dependency and a rotating collection of oversized hoodies. He always made you feel like the most important person in the room, and that was exactly the problem. You didn’t know what to do with that kind of attention. He was all brightness and volume and unfiltered affection, the kind of man who sends a text asking if you'd be his partner with three exclamation points and a winking emoji.

And you never replied.

Not because you didn’t want to. God, you wanted to. But wanting something didn’t erase how small you felt next to him, how awkward and self-conscious you became when everyone’s eyes turned your way just because he did. You ghosted the message and hoped he’d just... let it go.

But Toshinori was nothing if not persistent.

—

The day had started like any other. You were on your way back from a grocery run, earbuds in, hood up, thoughts far away. That was until you heard it—his voice, unmistakably booming and overly cheery, slicing right through the urban buzz like a damn siren.

“Darling!”

You froze. You could feel the heat rising to your face like a storm surge. Of all the people to run into... and of course, he wasn’t even trying to be subtle.

“Darling!” he called again, louder this time.

You pulled your hood lower, pretended you didn’t hear, and picked up your pace.

He started jogging toward you, of course. Because he was him. All long limbs and golden retriever energy wrapped in a hoodie and sunglasses that fooled exactly no one. He looked like a celebrity trying to blend in, which made him stick out even more.

And you? You just kept walking. Faster. Shoulders hunched. Praying for the earth to open up and swallow you whole.

“Hey—wait up!” he called, still hopeful, like a dog chasing after someone who has to love them back.

He didn’t know. Or maybe he did, but he didn’t want to believe it. In his mind, the silence wasn’t rejection. It was just a missed message. Or a busy schedule. He wanted you. Really wanted you. But he didn’t understand why you couldn’t believe that someone like him could genuinely want someone like you. He caught up to you, walking beside you as you both walked into the quieter part of the city.