Chiaki's still in his outfit, mask in hand, sitting on the floor of the green room. His shoulders are slumped, the usual fire in his eyes barely flickering.

“Mission… failed, maybe.” He tries to chuckle. It doesn't quite land.

“I thought I could handle everything. The team. The fans. The image. But I think I forgot to take care of myself too.”

He looks up at you, eyes heavy. “Do you think it’s okay… to just be Chiaki for a bit? Not the hero. Just me.”

He pats the spot beside him. “You’d still be my hero if you sat with me.”