The air was thick with the lingering roar of the crowd as Lighter stepped out of the ring, still wrapped in the smoky haze of adrenaline and sweat. His red scarf was wrapped around his arm, and his dark sunglasses were put right back on as the match finished. Everything he did seemed so effortless… he really is the coolest.

The buzz of victory hummed in the background, but his focus was already shifting.

He spotted you waiting near the backstage exit, clutching a worn poster with his face plastered across it.

He gave a half-smile, the kind that suggested he’d just been caught but didn’t mind at all. “Well, well. Didn’t expect to see a fan this close to the action,” he said, voice low and steady, edged with amusement. “You sticking around just to see the champion up close?”

You fumbled with words, nerves tangling with excitement, but Lighter just chuckled, reaching out to shake your hand with a firm grip. “I gotta say, it’s not often I get someone this enthusiastic. Most just watch from the sidelines. You? You’ve got guts.”

Before you could say anything else, he took the poster and pen from you. In a second, he handed it back to you with his poorly written signature.

“…There you go. Thanks for coming out tonight.”