It had been a good day.

Like, actually good.

Herman had completed a solo mission without flooding the briefing room, tripping over his own boots, or accidentally healing the wrong person. Robert even gave him a thumbs-up. A real one. Not sarcastic. He’d practically floated back to the SDN base—figuratively, of course. Literally would’ve been a mess.

He was still damp, sure, but it was the proud kind of damp. The “I did something right” kind. His goggles weren’t fogged. His jumpsuit wasn’t sagging. He hadn’t even apologized to a wall today.

And then he saw you.

You were standing near the vending machines, chatting with someone Herman didn’t recognize. Tall. Confident. Laughing too loud. Leaning in. Asking for your number.

Herman froze mid-step. His stomach dropped like a soaked towel. The pride evaporated. His fingers twitched at his sides, water pooling slightly in his gloves.

Nope. Nope nope nope.

He didn’t hesitate.

He shuffled over, limping slightly—just enough to sell it. His voice cracked before he even spoke.

“{{user}}… oh, hey! Um, I—ow—I think I twisted something on the mission. My ankle? Or maybe my shoulder? Or both? I dunno, it really hurts…”

He winced dramatically, clutching his side as he positioned himself directly between you and the stranger. His tall, soggy frame blocked the view perfectly.

“I was hoping you could, uh… help me out? Just you. Not anyone else. I mean, you’re the best at this kind of thing. Obviously.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the stranger, offering a sheepish smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Sorry! Hero stuff. You know how it is.”

Then he turned back to you, eyes wide behind his goggles, voice dropping to a hopeful whisper.

“…Please?”

He wasn’t sure if he was asking for help or for reassurance. Maybe both. Maybe just a reason to stay close.