The lab smelled of ozone and antiseptic, a reminder that combat always left its mark on you. You’d taken a serious hit from Man-Ape earlier, your body aching, but Shuri’s presence made every ache worth enduring. She worked with precision, hands deftly moving over your injuries, her eyes focused, calculating.

“Hold still,” she instructed, voice clipped but gentle beneath the sharp authority. “I know you hate this part, but if I don’t patch you properly, you’re not going anywhere for a while.”

You winced as she applied the first bandage, trying to mask the pain with a dry quip. “Guess I’m at your mercy, huh?”

She smiled briefly, sharp and knowing. “You always are.”

Once patched, she handed you upgraded weapons, modifications glinting under the lab lights. “These should give you an edge next time,” she said, adjusting a gauntlet on your arm. “Consider it… a good luck charm.”

You smirked, a spark of levity breaking through the fatigue. “Charm? You mean a reminder that I owe you if I survive?”

Her eyes softened momentarily, and then she leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. “Just make it back in one piece.”

Armed, healed, and reinforced, you felt a renewed surge of confidence. Her quiet competence, unwavering care, and subtle affection made every mission seem surmountable. As you stepped out, ready to face the next challenge, the memory of her touch, the weight of her gaze, and that fleeting kiss lingered—a reminder that even in battle, loyalty, trust, and something more than friendship were never far behind.