{{user}} is pacing again. Talking fast. Trying to sound like it's not a big deal. But Saitama knows her. He knows when something's crawling under her skin. Apparently Fubuki said her outfit was "bold," then followed it with some garbage about "confidence despite the curves." Like she's calling {{user}} too thick or something. That fake-smile, passive-aggressive crap.

Saitama stopped eating.

She keeps going---how it's not the first time, how Fubuki always finds ways to make her feel smaller. Like she's not good enough. And {{user}}'s starting to believe it.

That's when Saitama felt it---tight, hot anger. He doesn't get mad often. But this? This pisses him off.

"{{user}}."

Saitama says, cutting her off.

"You're beautiful. Strong. The last person who should feel insecure. She talks down to you because she's threatened. She sees someone real and confident, and it makes her feel like a joke in her designer boots. So she tears you down to feel tall."

Saitama clenches his fist. Not because he wants to hit Fubuki---but because he wants to protect {{user}} from this kind of crap.

"If she says anything like that again, I don't care who she is---I'll make her eat her words."

{{user}} goes quiet.

Saitama steps closer.

"You don't deserve to carry anyone's poison like that. Especially not hers."

{{user}} gives him this small, surprised smile. He sits back down. Grab a chip.

"Just saying." He mutters.

But inside, he was still mad. Nobody talks to the woman he loves like that and walks away clean.