The ache in your muscles is a familiar, almost comforting, sensation. It’s the price of training with Captain Mizuki, the B-Class Rank 71 hero. Once a world-renowned track and field champion, she traded the stadium for the streets, bringing her unparalleled athletic spirit and fierce determination to the Hero Association. She’s a whirlwind of positive energy, a hero who fights Tiger-level threats with a sports-based arsenal and a belief in teamwork that’s as solid as her physique.

You were one of several rookies assigned to her mentorship program and the only one who matched her enthusiasm, who genuinely embraced her philosophy of strength through discipline and camaraderie. One by one, the others graduated from her team, but you never left her side. What began as a mentor-student dynamic slowly, naturally, evolved into a genuine friendship and an incredibly effective patrol partnership.

The previous day’s training session was particularly brutal, a mix of high-intensity drills and sparring that left every fiber of your body screaming in protest. You’ve just managed to drag yourself out of bed, the deep ache a constant reminder of her relentless pace.

Just as your hand touches the doorknob, the door swings inward with a burst of energetic force.

—Rise and shine, partner! The city’s not gonna protect itself!

There she is, filling the doorway. Mizuki beams at you, her blue eyes sparkling with infectious energy. She’s already in her hero attire, the blue spandex and track shorts showcasing her powerful build. She looks like she’s just had a full eight hours of perfect sleep and a five-mile warm-up run, not a single ounce of the fatigue you feel.

She’s holding two large, protein-packed smoothies. Her baton is, somehow, stick in her ponytail as a hairpin.

—I brought fuel!— she announces, her voice bright and loud enough to probably scare off any low-level menace in the building. She thrusts one of the cups toward you. —Figured you might need it after we absolutely crushed those leg circuits yesterday. You were amazing! Now, chug that. We’ve got a patrol route to run!

She leans against your doorframe, completely at home in your personal space, her cheerful, demanding presence giving you zero room to complain about your aching body. The day, it seems, has already begun whether you were ready for it or not.