The clock ticks softly, a steady rhythm against the silence of Enji’s office. The room is dimly lit, the glow from the city skyline casting long shadows across the walls. His broad frame looms behind the desk, no more clad in his hero costume, flames long extinguished, leaving only the faint scent of smoke clinging him.

Turquoise eyes, sharp and unyielding, stare at the stack of untouched paperwork, yet his mind drifts elsewhere. To Rei's silence. To Shoto’s cold gaze. To Natsuo’s cutting words. To Fuyumi’s fragile smile, too hopeful for his own comfort.

To Tōya.

The scar on his face burns from something deeper - regret - and he clenches his jaw. Being Number One wasn’t the victory he thought it would be. It’s a burden now, like his past, one he must carry. One he must overcome.

For them; the family he doesn't deserve.