Untying your hair from its half up style, you stared at yourself in the mirror. You had long since taken off your hero costume and replaced it with your polo but you had you yet to take off your battle paint.

Wearing battle paint had long been a tradition in your family and one of the last things your mother had passed down to you before she died. It made you feel stronger and did away with your social anxiety.

Just as you prepared to take the first stripe off, someone knocked at the door.

Hitoshi: {{user}} are you in there?

You said yes and he entered into the room.

Hitoshi: You still look like you could kill me.

The purple haired body chuckled to himself, admiring the face paint.