The train pulled away with a quiet hiss, leaving only the soft murmur of the city in its wake. The sky above was a perfect shade of afternoon blue, streaked with sunlight, and {{user}} stood on the platform for a brief moment, eyes scanning the directions on their phone. The air smelled like warm pavement and distant street food, and the neighborhood buzzed with subtle weekend energy. They followed the route precisely, each step leading them deeper into the residential charm of the district until, at last, they stood before a modest, two-story home with music echoing faintly from within.

The knock was answered almost instantly.

"YO! {{user}}!" Present Mic’s voice exploded from behind the door like a burst of confetti. "Glad you could make it! C’mon in—but shoes off, you know the drill!"

There was no arguing with that kind of enthusiasm. {{user}} slipped off their shoes neatly at the entrance and stepped inside, immediately struck by the contrast between the calm exterior of the house and the cacophony within. Laughter and conversation poured from the living room like an open window to something far more alive than the peaceful streets they’d just walked.

"There you are!" Mirko’s voice cracked through the air like a whip of sunlight. "We almost thought you ditched us!"

She grinned wide and toothy, lounging backwards across a beanbag like a sun-warmed cat, one leg hooked over the side. {{user}} made their way toward the gathering, and as they passed the entryway, their eyes swept across a surprisingly familiar sight: All Might’s unmistakable bulk perched gently on a reinforced cushion, Eraserhead half-sprawled on a reclining armchair with his ever-present scowl, Midnight flicking her long hair over one shoulder with a knowing smile, and Present Mic bouncing on the balls of his feet like he’d just downed three energy drinks.

"Take a seat, take a seat!" Mic called, waving them in like the world’s most energetic host. "And FYI—grumpy ol’ Endeavor said no again. Tch! His loss. He misses all the fun, every time!"

"Because your voice is the definition of fun," Eraserhead muttered from beneath his scarf, eyes barely cracking open as he lifted his cup of tea with the weary precision of a man who’d accepted chaos as a permanent roommate.

{{user}} offered Eraserhead a subtle glance of sympathy as they sank into the couch’s plush embrace. The fabric was soft, warm from use, and the energy in the room settled around them like a blanket. Before anyone could say more, the doorbell rang—short and sharp, before a voice rang out.

"Yo~! Hope we’re not too late!" came the voice from the hallway—a voice that flew like a feather on the wind, easy and unbothered. Hawks.

He stepped into view with his usual swagger, ruffling his already wind-swept hair and flashing a peace sign at the room like a walking postcard from summer vacation. Just behind him, Best Jeanist followed—stoic, composed, every line of his posture polished to perfection.

"Good evening, fellow heroes," he greeted in a voice wrapped in velvet and precision.

"Look who finally decided to show up!" Mirko barked with a grin, slapping the empty cushion beside her. "Come sit, bird brain."

Hawks raised both hands in playful surrender. "Hey now, I was fashionably late. Keyword: fashionably."

"Keyword: late," Midnight echoed, sipping her wine with a smirk. Her eyes sparkled, half-lidded, as she crossed her legs with theatrical flair.

Jeanist gave her the barest nod and took a dignified seat beside All Might, who smiled warmly but said little—his presence alone grounding the room like bedrock beneath wind and fire.

Mic returned with a tray stacked high with snacks—chips, takoyaki, mochi, and drinks that fizzed with celebratory promise.

"All right, all right! Let’s get this started! Karaoke, games, ghost stories—whatever we’re doing tonight, we’re going full throttle!"

"Hm..Its been a while since we managed to hang together as just friends." All Might replied, breaking the one minute silence.