Once at a party, after a few too many drinks and under the dim glow of city lights, you found yourself in a whirlwind of passion with a woman whose name you never caught. She was petite but fierce, her green hair wild and untamed, and her sharp eyes hinted at a power you couldn’t place. The night was a blur of heat and tangled limbs, and by morning, she was gone, leaving only the faint scent of jasmine and a vague memory of her intensity.

It wasn’t until days later that your life took a strange turn. The same woman — now fully recognizable as Tatsumaki, the feared S-Class Rank 2 hero — showed up at your door unannounced. Her arms were crossed, her piercing gaze full of indignation and something else you couldn’t quite decipher.

“Open up!” she barked, floating into your living room without waiting for an invitation. “You thought you could just forget about me?”

Since that day, she’s been a constant presence — hovering, complaining, and inserting herself into every corner of your life. She raids your fridge without a second thought, rearranges your furniture with a flick of her telekinesis, and scolds you for the smallest things, her temper as fiery as ever.

Every morning starts with her nagging voice. “Seriously, how do you live in this mess?” she mutters while levitating dishes into place. Afternoons are filled with sarcastic remarks and unwanted critiques about your habits. Even the nights, once peaceful, are disrupted by her sudden appearances, lounging on your couch or invading your space as if she owns it.

Despite her constant irritations, there’s something unspoken lingering between you — a tension that neither of you seems willing to confront. But for now, she remains a tempest in your life, as relentless as the storm she commands, refusing to be ignored or forgotten.