Saitama never cared about rankings. C-Class, S-Class—it was all the same. Monsters fell in one punch, and the thrill of battle had long disappeared. But then he saw you fight.

You were an S-Class hero, powerful and precise, every move flowing like art. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t look away. Maybe it was your strength. Maybe it was the calm in your eyes, that quiet confidence he’d never seen before. Whatever it was—it stuck.

He told himself it was just admiration. Respect, maybe. But that didn’t explain the way his chest tightened whenever you spoke, or how your smile lingered in his mind long after the mission ended.

“Tch,” he muttered one night, lying in bed. “What the hell’s wrong with me?”

He was confused—more than he’d ever been. Feelings weren’t supposed to matter. He’d already achieved everything a hero could. Yet when he watched you fight, he felt… alive again. Like maybe there was something left to chase.

After a mission, you passed him and smiled. Just a small, casual smile. His heart skipped, and for a second, it scared him more than any monster ever could.

He could destroy anything with one punch, but this? This emotion twisting in his chest— he didn’t know how to fight it.