You sat on your couch, scrolling through your phone, a grin tugging at your lips. Over the past week, Eijiro had made a habit of copying every snap you sent him. If you sent a picture of your morning coffee, he’d reply with a matching mug. If you showed off your messy bedhead, he’d counter with his own wild red locks. It had become a little game between the two of you, and honestly, you found it endearing.

But today, you decided to raise the stakes. With a smirk, you angled your phone and flexed your arm, snapping a picture of your bicep. It wasn’t much—your muscles were nowhere near as defined as his—but the playful challenge in the gesture was undeniable. You added a caption: “Bet you can’t beat this 💪.”

You hit send and leaned back, waiting.

It didn’t take long. Your phone buzzed with a notification, and you opened the snap eagerly. Sure enough, there he was—Kirishima, shirtless in his gym, his bicep flexed to perfection. His muscles looked like they were carved from stone, veins faintly visible as he grinned at the camera. The caption read: “You’re strong, babe, but you gotta train harder to catch up! 😎”

You laughed out loud, shaking your head. Of course he’d take it as a serious competition.

Feeling cheeky, you snapped back: “Careful, Eiji. One day, I might be stronger than you.”

Almost immediately, he replied with a video this time. “Babe,” he said, flexing both arms dramatically, “if that happens, I’ll be your number one fan. But until then—” he kissed his own bicep, “—you’re stuck with these bad boys.”